The Half-Blood Prince
by TazoClarity
Summary: "I went to find the woman in her paltry laboratory and there I found a child of my blood," Vegeta responded. "How can I ignore such an occurrence? I have grown since those years past, because I've been from planet to planet, searching for it. And if Earthling blood is the most powerful asset to Frieza's defeat, I do not care what all of Vegeta-sei thinks!"
1. Do-or-Die Vacation

A/N: First Dragonball fic, multi-chapter… Pretty AU and Dark!Vegeta for sure… There's going to be a lot of fill-in-the-blanks. Needless to say, at the beginning of this fic, Vegeta and Bulma have met before, and that portion will be told in flashbacks. Also, Vegeta-sei is very much intact. So anyway, here you go! Make sure to review if you liked it. Or if you didn't.

The blood of the Legendary Warrior must be fulfilled. From a young age, Prince Vegeta's objective remained unchanged. First, it was whispered down the halls of his father's palace, whispers of awe and promise. Largest power level at birth in recorded history, they would say. The king had tried to mask this from Lord Frieza, who had eyed the young prince with a little more than interest. The blood of the Legend was carried through the royal line, and the youngest Vegeta would be the sure fulfillment of it…save that he stayed alive and free.

But the youngest Vegeta never wanted for intelligence, and he quickly realized that these quiet voices that spoke of his potential spoke of a far darker threat. And his destiny needed to come all the more urgently as he saw Frieza sit upon his father's throne, spit upon his Saiyan heritage as a heritage of monkeys, and flex the tiniest finger to the tune of an enormously powerful flare of ki. He was dangerous, not only to Vegeta personally, but to his people. Frieza needed to be eliminated.

The prince trained himself to unconsciousness, he devoted himself to it, he destroyed even the most powerful Saiyan warriors without failure…and it was never enough. Never enough.

Had he wanted to kill his father and assume his place as King of All Saiyans, he would have done so years ago. As it was, the prince had no time for it. His objective remained unchanged, and he sought personal power over the power of the monarchy. There were times when Vegeta quite thought that his father _wanted_ him to commit patricide and take the throne…but he would never give the old man the satisfaction.

"You can train here, become stronger _here_ ," his father had growled.

"There is nothing for me," Vegeta sneered. "Our warriors are not good enough to overthrow the Cold Empire, not good enough to bring me my dream. They are good-for-nothing as they are and I will not rule them until I achieve the call of the Legendary Warrior and can lead our race to eternal freedom."

"You dare to speak so foully of your own people, you heedless boy?" his father had roared. But the prince remained unmoved, staring down his father with slight distaste.

"If you can suffer Freiza's language for the Saiyan people, you can suffer mine, old man." He did not bow before his father. Owning his arrogance, Vegeta left the royal presence and searched from world to world for the answer—for strength, for the key to unlocking the Legendary Warrior. Because the prince felt it within him. He felt the supposed "myth" of the Super Saiyan living in his very soul. And he would show the world and rip Lord Freiza to shreds in the process.

So, over years of travelling, his objective remained unchanged… but how he reached it was constantly changing.

"My prince," Nappa announced himself from the doorway as Vegeta watched the window and the world just in sight. "We are close. Where will we make landing?"

"Capsule Corp. _You_ will stay in the ship." There was a minute, barely detectable hesitation in the prince's voice…but it was also sure. As sure as he heard Nappa snarl behind him. But despite his absolute loathing of the destination, his second would not breath a word of disobedience. And when Nappa disappeared to follow through with his orders, Vegeta smiled at the mudball planet below.

 _Kakarot's son's battle power was unusually high compared to that of Saiyan children. Apparently, when our blood is mixed with an earthling's, it results in a hybrid with mighty power._

And how powerful was that?

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

The foolish woman hadn't changed, Vegeta noted. Mulling around her lab obliviously with so little awareness that if an intruder broke through her so-called "state of the art" alarm system, he could probably slaughter all of her little tech assistants without her looking up from the microscope she was bent over right now. Speaking of bent over…he looked appreciatively over her form and had to admit that the years had been kind. And it was likely those eyes burning into her back that finally prompted her recognition. She slowly straightened, and then with reflexes that were still pathetic (but again, he had to admit, surprisingly alacritous for an untrained human), he found himself staring down the business end of a ki gun. And that made him chuckle.

Her jaw dropped, the gun tipped out of her hands and clattered to the floor. "Vegeta," she exhaled. It wasn't a question.

"Woman."

Of course, he felt no need to expound upon his presence there. He stood there, arms crossed, watching her watch him and her brain finally caught up with the situation.

"You jerk! What are you doing here _now_ anyway?! Leave, go back to your stupid planet or wherever you've been drifting for _five years_ or I'll make you sorry!" She ripped her measly weapon off the floor and leveled it at him again.

"Ms. Briefs…" one of the other humans timidly broke in to their standoff, "should someone call security?"

Only belatedly did either of them realize (and Vegeta, of course, didn't care) how the scene had unfolded before a bunch of people that wouldn't know any better and Bulma's eyes darted away from the Saiyan to her very startled lab technicians, clearly thinking about how ineffective security would be against this particular intruder.

"Take lunch, all of you," she said, and Vegeta recognized the woman's ludicrous but effective 'don't mess with me' tone. He couldn't suppress a smirk as her little underlings scattered away despite their apparent concern for the woman's well-being, leaving them very much alone. Her chest was heaving with newborn adrenaline, her blood pumping to her cheeks, and ki gun trained on him with a purpose, she looked very alluring—wrapped up in shades of blue, pristine lab coat, porcelain skin…always, for a second, he imagined the beauty of her blood decorating that lovely outer shell. But he stayed his hands and smirked at her threat, infuriating her further.

"What the hell are you doing here, Vegeta?" she demanded. "Last I checked, you didn't think this planet or anyone in it was worth so much as a 'good-bye'. And if it did, you're about five years too late!"

"Are you going to use that toy, woman? Or are you going to lecture me to death?" Vegeta rolled his eyes at her.

"You sneak out in the middle of the night—"

"I didn't _sneak out_ ," Vegeta snarled, outraged by the implication of cowardice. Saiyans were no cowards. "I _happened_ to leave. After your moon rose."

Bulma scoffed, tossing her ki gun on to the desk at her side. It's not like she was going to use it. " _After_ we slept together and you waited until I fell asleep, Vegeta. You _snuck out_!"

"Call it whatever you want, woman," Vegeta snapped impatiently. "I didn't come here for this!"

"Then what _did_ you come for?" Bulma gave him that haughty look that so often had given him the urge to wrap his hands around that beautiful throat and never stop squeezing. "Besides to waste my time."

He stopped briefly and wondered if he should be honest with her. She was very close to Kakarot, her best friend…a point that she brought up a few times whenever he felt particularly murderous towards her, not that Kakarot would have been able to save her had Vegeta had any real intent to end the little female. But she was also a researcher, a scientist who had shown a deep interest in the biological Saiyan makeup—one of the main reasons he had tolerated her alarming lack of respect at times.

He decided to appeal to her interest as a scientist. Perhaps she could even help him.

"Kakarot's brat."

The woman blinked and little space between her brows crinkled in confusion. "Gohan?"

 _That blow he dealt Raditz…_ Surprising it had taken Vegeta this long to realize the possible significance.

"What would you want with him?" To her knowledge, Vegeta had never displayed any interest in Gohan beyond a desire to kill him along with the rest of their planet. And it had been years since he had last been here or had contact with anybody. She would know, as she was the only one with the technology that would have allowed such contact, unless there was some freaky Saiyan mind-read thing that could go across huge distances that she didn't know about.

Vegeta frowned at her mouth, slightly slackened in thought. "You know my goals, woman."

Bulma stared at him, then sighed, sitting back at her desk chair with no more threats of violence to his person for the time being. Her mood swings were both strange and annoying. "Of course…the whole…Super Saiyan thing."

He scowled. Always with the disrespect. "That _thing_ , as you call it, is the only reason you or anyone else on this mudball is still breathing."

"I'm sure," she said, unfazed by his temper. "You told me often enough the last time you were here. Of course, what was the saying? 'The Saiyan doth protest too much'?"

"What?! Stop babbling." He had forgotten how insufferable she was beneath the good looks with her nonsensical talk. Even worse that she had the gall to _wink_ at him! "That brat, _Gohan_ … I think there may be something to his half-breed status."

There was no limit to the nastiness that Vegeta had shelled out on Gohan being half-human before…but this time, his voice was speculative, thoughtful. He was looking at her expectantly, then his frown deepened. "What's wrong with you, woman?"

He smelled the fear on her. Her heartbeat had slowed as they had begun to converse civilly, but now it had picked up again. And the color on her face had drained. She smiled, but he could see the lie in her eyes. He wasn't sure where this behavior was coming from, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I don't plan on hurting the brat," Vegeta said, though he had _no_ direct intention of assuaging any doubt in the woman's mind. He smiled, showing all of his teeth as she continued to pale. "Much."

"You're going to bully a little kid?" Bulma shook her head, eyes glancing off to the side. "How _honorable_ of you."

"I said I don't plan on hurting him much," Vegeta returned dismissively. "It's only that in my travels, I've noticed something."

"What?"

"Well…the genetics of certain half-breed Saiyans." He was loath to admit this, the pride in his heritage, for all the pain he gave his father, was still strong within him. "They may make for an unusually potent ki that is not present in full-blooded Saiyans. Or perhaps there is something else that makes them strong. Whatever it is, I plan to find out."

"Oh…" Her small, weak hand was gripping the side of the table next to her with enough force to whiten her knuckles. Something was definitely wrong with the woman. He sniffed condescendingly. Was she not going to ask him another million questions? What was this behavior? He watched her carefully, unsure about this…tensed for any attack she might unleash on him. He wasn't a fool and he had learned never to underestimate her. She tilted her head to one side with a nervous energy. "Well, shouldn't you get to it, then?"

He paused uncertainly for a moment. Was she sending him away without question? No insisting that she involve herself? No scientific babble and shining eyes? No warnings against murdering Kakarot? Had something changed since he had last been here? He didn't dare ask lest she get the mistaken idea that he cared.

"Fine, female!" he hissed. "Just tell me whether Kakarot still lives in that hovel out in the woods and I'll—"

"MAMA!"

He hadn't noticed the little monitor sitting on the desk next to her, or her hand creeping towards it. Nor had he noticed the burning flame of ki that was clearly coming from upstairs. Bulma's hand flinched back from the crackling object as a child's voice repeated its demand. He squinted at her, realizing the pained, horrified look on her face. And again, he realized that the ki in this house was too strong for a mere human.

"What do you have hidden in this house, woman?" he questioned slowly, the wheels turning in his mind in a direction that was spreading numbing cold to his every limb. She couldn't have…

"MAMA!"

Now he was gone, the speed of him rustling her hair as she finally took a breath. "Damnit, Vegeta…no!" she protested uselessly, before getting up and running after him, her mother's instinct sounding every alarm in her body.

The ki signature wasn't hard to locate, in a colorful, atrocious bedroom. It had purple hair and it was small and frowning. Vegeta frowned right back as he strode towards the child's bed, heart pounding fiercely in his chest.

"Who are you?" the child, a boy, demanded. "Where's my mama?"

The brat continued to scowl as Vegeta lifted him up by one leg and hung him upside down. Most children would be shrieking in alarm if a stranger walked into their room and handled them in such a way, but this boy seemed more irritated than anything. Fearless.

There was no tail.

"No!" the child said and one of his feet struck out with a speed that had Vegeta ducking, a speed that wouldn't have been possible from an untrained, human child. Vegeta dropped the little boy unceremoniously and the child _floated_ in the air to right himself, before drifting to the ground.

"MAMA!" he yelled angrily. "Where is my mama?" He was looking at Vegeta as if he expected some sort of response. Vegeta, however, was staring at the kid before him in disbelief.

It was his own face, painted in pastel hues, the woman's colors.

"Trunks!" He hadn't registered the woman pounding like an elephant up three flights of stairs, but now she was panting desperately against the door. And the child took his eyes off of the stranger to look at the woman, Bulma.

"Mama, who's he?"

He had already known, but the confirmation that _Bulma_ was the boy's mother had him turning to glare at her so hard the walls around her may have started melting. If she could have breathed, her mouth would have been gaping open like a fish. This had just been a normal day! And somehow, her life was coming down around her in mere minutes, dread had spread to every inch of her. She didn't know what to say.

Trunks, clad in dinosaur pajamas, walked up to his near-catatonic mother and took her dangling hand, jostling her gently though she wasn't looking at him. "Who's he?" he asked again.

Outraged, Vegeta looked down at the boy. "I'm your father!"

"Vegeta!" Bulma snarled, the announcement knocking her out of her state. "Don't!"

The little boy glared at the man in confusion. "I don't have a papa, though. Mine left."

"Well, then couldn't _I_ be him?" Vegeta argued, crossing his arms. That left the four-year old speechless with doubt, so Vegeta slowly raised his eyes to the trembling woman before him.

"You," he drawled, "have some explaining to do."

He was angry. He could barely reason to himself why that was, but it didn't matter. The brat was obviously his, unless Kakarot had abandoned his intolerable harpy. And that thought _really_ made his blood boil. But he knew the boy was his, he could see it in the bearing. That royal blood pumping through his veins and the scowl etched into his expression as he continued to swing his mother's hand back and forth, looking to her for answers.

"We aren't doing this here," Bulma said, gesturing to the child. She swallowed hard and he watched her throat move, suppressing the urge to wrap his hand around it and snap her slender neck. "I will speak with you down the hall."

She bent down to Trunks level. "I'm going to talk to this man for a minute and then I'm going to come right back and talk to you. Can you wait for me to come back?"

"Mama, is this guy my papa?" He crossed his arms. "Gohan said my papa was a Saiyan and that's why I was like him and I was so strong and fast."

"Woman," Vegeta grunted, growing restless. He didn't have the time or the interest to watch this conversation. She clearly was getting ready to _coddle_ their brat, but whether it was going to be with truth or lies, he couldn't be sure. But he wasn't going to stand there and wait to hear it.

"I know!" Bulma rounded on him, eyes fierce. "Hold on a minute, he doesn't understand!"

"I'll make him understand if you don't hasten yourself right now," Vegeta said dangerously. And Bulma knew that he wasn't joking. Gentility wasn't his strong suit and he probably didn't see the point in any of this. Bulma turned back to Trunks and enfolded him in her arms.

"Trunks, baby, I'm going to explain everything about your papa once I talk to him, okay? Just give me a minute."

Trunks broke from her arms and eyed the prince suspiciously with his mother's bright eyes. "You won't hurt my mama, will you? Because I will hurt you _back_ if you do."

Well, if Vegeta had been in any other frame of mind, he would have smirked at the boy for being so _Saiyan_ … as it was, he couldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking of throwing the boy's mother off the roof the first chance he got for such betrayal. And if Bulma's face was anything to go by, she was thinking the same thing. She grabbed Vegeta's arm and ignored his growl before pulling him out of the room.

"I'll be fine, baby. Everything's fine," she called back to the brat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Vegeta murmured. "Isn't that what you used to say?"

He felt her puny ki flare in anger, but she kept her peace until she had brought him to her own room and he had ripped his arm out of her grasp.

"What exactly did you expect me to do?" she raged. "I didn't hide this from you! You weren't around to hide it _from_ , so you can just knock off the death threats, buddy!"

"You were certainly in no hurry to tell me when I got here," Vegeta said evenly. He was keeping his rage under a lid. "In fact, you were about to send me off to Kakarot and his brat without a word, weren't you? When my own _hybrid Saiyan_ son was sitting just floors above."

"Trunks is not your science experiment," the woman cut across him, her cheeks red with anger. "I won't have you treating him like one, or beating him up for—!" Her words cut off as she was suddenly pinned to the wall, Vegeta's hand to her throat, not squeezing but unbreakable. He dipped his head to her ear, his lips fanning his hot breath onto her skin, making her flinch and rising an attraction she had completely forgotten about.

"And here I thought I could trust you," he whispered, and she felt his lips lay a kiss on her ear lobe that sparked. "I thought I could tell you my desires and you would help me. But I was _mistaken_." Worryingly, his hand began to tighten on her neck and her heartrate picked up. He felt the brat's ki spark in alarm, so with control that even _he_ wasn't sure he possessed, he stepped back away from her. He wanted to continue this conversation alone without the little hybrid becoming something he would need to swat away for the duration.

"You _weren't_ mistaken," Bulma said. Her hand rested carefully where he had clutched her before. "But not at my baby's expense."

"Well I don't need Kakarot's brat anymore," Vegeta said. "I will do just fine with my own brat."

The woman's face was like stone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm taking that boy back to Vegeta-sei. And nothing you say is going to stop me." And as she came off the wall and closed in on him with ferocity, because this woman _never_ learned, he looked her up and down and his plan came to him full-formed. "You aren't going to stop me, because you will be with me."

That stopped her dead in her tracks. _"What_?" she shrieked.

"You were never useless enough to kill," Vegeta said. "And before I found out the depth of your betrayal—"

"I didn't _betray_ —"

"—I was going to ask for your help in discovering what the root of a hybrid Earth-Saiyan's power is."

"I can't just leave my home!"

"You're acting like you have a choice."

"I'm not your _slave_ , Vegeta," Bulma said, disgusted. In her anger, she had gotten too close and he was able to snatch the back of her neck and pull her in to his body. She gasped as her body pressed up helplessly against his and the urge to kill her, as always, intermingled with the urge to _take_ her brutally so she would know nothing except to cry out his name like she used to.

"I can arrange for that," Vegeta breathed against her lips, before pulling away slightly. He kept her in his grip to remind her of his power. "You forget yourself, little female. Kakarot isn't here. That fool you used to bed isn't here, and that's lucky for him because _had_ he been here, the walls would now be decorated with his blood."

"You're disgusting."

"It doesn't matter what I am," Vegeta whispered, too close. "It only matters what you are… Trapped." He dragged a finger down her perfect cheek, tauntingly. "You've tried to play me for a fool. Now you will be _mine_. You and the brat."

She was clenching her fists against his Saiyan armor, trying to put space between them to no avail. "Capsule Corp is—"

"Your sire is still alive, is he not?"

"That's not the point! He's on vacation with my mom."

"Think of _this_ as a vacation," Vegeta sneered. "A do-or-die vacation. And don't pretend that you have the power to destroy me. I will squeeze the life out of you _and_ the brat if you don't give me what I want."

" _Okay_!" Bulma hissed, still struggling with their proximity. "Now let _go_!"

He did, but mostly because he heard the brat at the door. And moments later, a knock sounded. "Mama?"

The woman's face looked truly heartbroken and had Vegeta cared at all, it may have brought on guilt to see her look so. Instead, he gave her a pointed stare. "You will tell him who I am. You will tell him that he will be traveling to his father's planet _today_. And if you leave my sight for a moment, I will kill you where you stand and take the boy away from all he knows."

Tears filled those blue eyes as she cast a glance toward the door. "Come in, Trunks."

The boy obeyed and padded into the room and Vegeta reminded himself to burn any clothing the woman might bring for the boy as soon as he could have him fitted for Saiyan armor. "Are you done with your talk?" Then the child grimaced as he smelled the tears. "You're crying." Accusing blue eyes went to him. "Were you mean to Mama?"

"Baby," Bulma knelt and one of her hands gently fisted in the boy's ridiculous shirt to keep his focus on her. "We're going to go on a trip." It was halfway interesting, Vegeta noted, watching her talk to the boy. There was a tenderness in her that the prince was sure hadn't existed before. He wondered if that was something that normally happened to Earth women when they bred.

"A trip. With _him_?" Trunks demanded.

"Yes…with him. Because he _is_ your dad, okay? I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it's just that you're so young still and there's a lot that I can't totally explain…about your father. And Gohan was right… you are like him because your dad is a Saiyan. But while Goku has lived all this time on Earth…your father…he's…"

"I'm the Prince of All Saiyans," Vegeta announced with no small measure of smugness. "And you and your mother are coming with me to live on my planet."

"For a little while," Bulma broke in, tugging on Trunk's shirt to bring his attention back to her. "Just for a little bit so you can see what it's like. And then we'll come back."

Vegeta could have said that she was nothing but a delusional wench that was lying to their flesh and blood, but to avoid an altercation with either mother or son and to speed this whole ordeal up, he decided to let the woman tell the boy whatever lies she wanted. For now.

The brat scrunched up his face skeptically. "A prince? Does that mean—"

"You are of the royal line, yes." Vegeta said. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you _inherit_ anything. Simply be proud of your blood, boy."

Trunks turned back to his mother seriously. "He's nuts. I don't want to go. I want to stay here with Gohan and Grandma and Grandpa! They can't come, so I don't want to."

What a bunch of sentimental bullshit. Vegeta would not stand for this type of coddling once they were off this chunk of floating space debris. His son had been raised like some weakling Earthling for _four years_ and he'd be damned if that were to continue. Had Vegeta whined about staying with his family as a child, his father would have booted him through a palace window. He gave the woman a significant glance that said: _turn this around or I blow up the planet._

"Baby," the woman was stroking the child's sleeves in an effort to soothe him. "It's only for a little while. I'll be there the whole time and think of how fun it will be! You'll get to go to a whole other planet that none of your friends have ever seen and you'll get to tell them about it!"

The boy's mouth twisted into a thin line of thought, an expression the prince had seen on the human woman's face before. It meant she was turning this around.

"You'll be there the whole time?"

"Of course, Trunks," Bulma said. "I'd never leave you for any reason. You know that."

The purple haired boy blinked and then smiled sweetly at his mother, an expression that looked almost wrong on a face that was a miniature of the Saiyan prince's.

"Okay, Mama. I'll come!"

Vegeta snorted. As if he had a choice. As the boy skittered down the hall to change his clothes and gather his things at his mother's encouragement, Vegeta watched the woman rise slowly, her back rigid.

"You got what you wanted," she said and he could hear the tears again in her voice.

"Not quite, woman. But it's a good starting effort."

His mockery was met with eyes that burned with hatred, but she didn't say anything about it. She didn't rage. And that was more worrisome than anything else. "So tell me, is there any way to contact Earth from your planet? So I can at least communicate with my friends here so they _know_ why Trunks and I mysteriously disappeared?"

Vegeta knew this woman. And so he knew that she would not let this go to rest. He had won a battle…but the war was far from won. The woman's mind was dangerous and he could see it, even now, spinning and preparing for more. She was an asset. And with her at his side, he would become the Legendary and defeat the Cold Empire…whether it was through his half-breed spawn with the terrible name or through her non-human inventions, she would be a boon for him. And he wasn't going to let her win. Because if she won, she would run as far away as she could from him. She was smart.

He smirked.

"You're the genius, woman," Vegeta said. "You figure it out."

A/N: Let me know what you think, good or bad!


	2. Make You Stronger

" _Goku! Are you even paying attention?!"_

 _The black-haired man (now that he towered over her, Bulma had to concede that the little runt she met in the woods was indeed a man now) rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as his head snapped back down to Bulma's exasperated gaze. "Geez, sorry Bulma… I want to understand what you're saying, but I really just don't."_

 _Bulma clicked off the chirping signal and twisted a little violently as she got out of her chair. "Well, not listening isn't going to help you understand."_

" _I listened!" Goku gave her that hangdog look that suggested he was hurt by the accusation. "I tried to listen for a while. But honestly, Bulma, it's like you speak in a different language sometimes."_

 _Bulma sighed, having anticipated this would happen, but having held out hope that maybe if she explained everything well enough, they could be a two-man team for her experiment. She couldn't ask Yamcha… not with the way they were lately. "What do you keep looking up at anyway? I_ _know_ _that it probably has nothing to do with what I was telling you about space travel."_

" _Nah," Goku shrugged. "I thought I was feeling something, I don't know…an energy."_

" _An energy?" This was part of the reason that she and Goku had remained friends for so long. The excitement of what went on around him was too much of a temptation for a mind like hers. Even if sometimes he was a real idiot and she had to take care of him (although, his wife Chi-Chi was now mostly responsible for that). "You mean like ki?" She had been around fighters for long enough in her life to speak a little bit of Goku's language._

" _Yeah…" he squinted into the distance as if trying to read something from afar. "But…it's different from other ones. Less like you."_

" _Not human?" She had long figured that Goku, whatever he was,_ _wasn't_ _human. There were too many anomalies with his biological structure and constitution._

" _Like me." He knew he wasn't explaining right, so he met her gaze trying to convey what he meant with his eyes, something he did that Bulma had only recently begun to recognize. "It's…like me more than like you or Krillin or Yamcha."_

" _Okay…" So not human? The idea that there was something that Goku was picking up on that he found similar to himself had her hands twitching for more information. But then…something else had her tickled at her mind._

" _Goku, can you tell if they are good or bad?" More like him, he said. Goku could literally turn into a giant destructive APE. They couldn't take any chances if whatever Goku was sensing meant them harm._

 _He peered up at the ceiling thoughtfully again, and then for a split moment, she saw something cold pass over his face. She was grasping his arm, but he shook it off easily. "Sorry, Bulma. Stay here."_

 _The air was displaced around her and as she blinked, he was gone, leaving her to curse after the buzz of air he left behind._

" _Hey, Goku! You can't just leave me here! You can't just—"_

 _There was a crack and then a deafening rumble as half of the far wall blew out and choked the air with dust and particles. Bulma found herself fallen back on instinct, trying to see through the haze. Thank Kami the lab had been cleared from work as she had been trying to give herself and Goku some privacy._

" _What the HELL, Goku?!" Bulma coughed around her words, climbing to her feet in a fury. "I told you to come back and get me, not destroy my lab like a big orange wrecking ball! What's wrong with you?!"_

 _It wasn't Goku who had burst through the wall. She realized that the moment she heard the footsteps, their menacing confidence had her swallowing back any more words. The dust still hadn't completely dissipated, but she could make out the firm, malicious face and a flame of jet-black hair. And blue armor._

 _When his black eyes fell upon her, her heart skipped a beat. The man looked carefully at her and she felt cold under his scrutiny. And she shrunk back with a squeal when something enormous and bald came up behind the man, his smile nasty._

 _The first man extended a hand out, stopping the second from advancing. Bulma took a slow breath, her head clearing as the moments ticked by and the man stared at her like_ _she_ _was the peculiarity. She needed to get a hold of herself. She had seen a thousand strange things before and if this was to be the last, she wasn't going to die sniveling in a corner._

" _Woman," he said. His voice was rough…and hard as diamond. He tossed something to the ground and Bulma tore her eyes away from him to see what was at her feet._

" _My signal…"_

" _Yours? You made this, woman?" He face was stone. "I traced it back to this location. It latched itself to my ship."_

 _Her mouth was dry, but she managed to give him a shaky "yeah". And she wondered how much was riding on her answer._

 _The big bald one laughed. "My prince, you can't think that a female weakling could have put together anything so advanced!"_

" _Excuse me?!" Nobody challenged her genius, especially for the reason that she was a woman! She was the smartest person on this damn planet, except maybe her father, and even her father said that she was doing things with her brain that he wouldn't have dreamed of at her age. "Say that again, you stupid behemoth! You probably can't even figure out which side is right side up on that device, let alone how it works!"_

 _There was some movement that was too fast for Bulma to track that resulted in black flame guy wrenching his large companion against the wall. And by that time, she realized what exactly had come out of her mouth out of anger and felt her heart begin to pound even faster. She took a few minute steps backward. These guys appeared to be Goku-level strong and maybe even stronger…and their tempers already had a sense of destruction that was deliberate enough to make her shiver, unlike Goku. What if they decided to kill her because of a couple choice words?_

" _You can't kill her_ _yet_ _," the first guy said, and Bulma did not appreciate his emphasis on the word 'yet'. But his hand was still pressing against the giant's throat, and he wasn't watching her anymore._

 _Her escape lasted all of three frantic steps before her hair was wrenched backward and she was hauled back on her knees by terrible, bruising strength. "Was I finished with you?" rumbled low in her ear. And she suddenly realized that she had never been truly scared of anything before this moment._

 _But it was only a moment._

 _Because aforementioned orange wrecking ball suddenly pelted them and Bulma found herself in Goku's muscular arms. "Hold on," he said to her terrified, breathless face. But the two men were right behind them…and a third with an incredible mane of black hair._

" _Who?!" she screamed. "They're following us, Goku!"_

 _They were more than following…they were faster. The one Bulma first encountered closed within a hair of them and Bulma shrieked before he tackled Goku and she was dropped. She landed in another set of arms that squeezed her hard enough that she was sure she would have bruises. At least it wasn't the bald one._

" _Have you no Saiyan pride? You low-class imbecile! You were sent to destroy this planet, not live like one of them!"_

 _Bulma had no idea what Goku might have said because the other guy was beating him bloody like it was nothing._

" _You're lucky I'm loathe to spill Saiyan blood, Kakarot." Barely faster than Bulma could register, the creature (because Bulma was betting her life that he_ _wasn't_ _human) slammed his leg into Goku's back and he fell like an injured bird from the sky._

" _No!" Bulma heard herself yelling, horrified. They all landed where Goku fell and Bulma wrestled from the constraining grip. "Get OFF! You hurt him!"_

 _The man restraining her was actually laughing so hard at her hysterics that he let her out of his arms and she sprinted over to her downed friend. Her knees hit the grass and she heaved him over with a groan, slapping his cheeks lightly. "Goku! C'mon, wake up!"_

" _Ow, Bulma…" He didn't open his eyes and a shadow fell over them._

" _His name isn't 'Goku', woman. It's Kakarot. And he was supposed to be the Saiyan warrior sent to destroy this mudball planet." She felt a pressure on the back of her lab coat and she was lifted off the ground and then she was face to face with those terrible obsidian eyes. "And if you did something to him…if you ran_ _experiments_ _or muddled the mind of a Saiyan warrior, I will_ _destroy_ _you."_

" _I didn't," Bulma gasped. "That's not…"_

" _Let her go!" Goku mumbled, trying and failing to sit up. From the corner of her eye, she saw the bald one crushing her poor friend's head with his boot._

" _When you speak to the Prince of All Saiyans, you will show some respect!"_

" _What're Saiyans?!" Bulma wheezed. The so-called prince hadn't loosened his grip._

" _That's none of your concern, Earthling female. But it_ _is_ _the concern of Kakarot. Raditz, enlighten your brother. And Nappa, get your foot off his head before you crush his worthless skull. He dies when I say he dies."_

 _The bald one called Nappa immediately obeyed and Goku's brother (!) with the impressive hair stepped forward. "You've forgotten your pride, brother. We sent you to this planet as an infant to fulfill your mission. And here you are! Did you even try to figure out where you came from?"_

" _Did your eyes ever search for Planet Vegeta when you looked at the sky?" the prince demanded. The edges around Bulma's vision were fading and in an instant, the ground rose to meet her. The alien had let her go and air blessedly began filling her lungs. She didn't know why the vicious alien was keeping her alive…but she would find out._

 _They obviously found her to be no threat, because all eyes were on Goku now…the chiseled faces cruel and ironically accusing, as if he had betrayed them._

 _Goku blinked up at them in confusion. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?" He leaned over and, to Bulma's disgust, coughed up some blood and spit it on the ground._

" _We want answers, Kakarot!" Raditz snarled. "We want to know if your life is worth sparing or if you are hopeless now that you've embraced this pathetic life as a weakling! If you continue to play these games, brother or not, you will be destroyed."_

 _The prince was pinching his nose, apparently frustrated that beating Goku senseless didn't have the desired effect. "He's addled, Raditz. He's a disgrace, and I will_ _not_ _have this fool drawing breath and bringing such shame to our race." He waved his hand. "He's weak. Kill him."_

"You don't have to follow me around, I'm not going to try anything."

Vegeta snorted, but didn't speak. He didn't have to. They both knew she was lying through her teeth. She headed for the stairway and his hand was immediately on her arm. She tugged at it futilely. "I just want to go down to the lab!"

"What for?"

Her eyes were cold. "If I'm going to help you reach your goals and conduct research, don't you think I'm going to need a few things?"

He had to concede that, but he didn't relinquish his grip and he looked hard into her eyes. "If I see you do _anything_ that will jeopardize my mission, I will knock you unconscious and you will wake up in the storage hold of my ship with the boy."

"I'm not going to jeopardize anything, _Your Highness_." Bulma pulled free under his slackened hand. "But I can't just disappear! I have work. I have—I have a life! You can't do this, just come back here with your threats and—"

Vegeta leaned in very close so she could smell the sweat on him and wondered when was the last time he had showered…sometimes he would come back from training so disgusting that she could barely be in the room with him and would demand that he bathe. Of course, he had never heeded her unless he _wanted_ to get up close and personal with her. She doubted complaining about it now would do much. His eyes were black flames. "You know I'm not stupid, Woman. I will be watching you very carefully. If you attempt to communicate with _anyone_ when we are down in your pathetic lab, you will never see another one of your pathetic friends again."

"The lab wasn't so _pathetic_ when it was making you stronger, Vegeta," Bulma said, backing away from him and his scent. But then she realized there was a concession in there. "You said 'when' I'm in the lab… does that mean you don't care if I send them a message from the ship?"

"Hn. By then it won't matter." _You'll already be long gone and all mine._

"Fine."

She didn't want to admit that she didn't _entirely_ recognize this version of Vegeta. Five years seemed to have made him more self-assured, less blustering than he had been. There was a darkness in the fire of his eyes that she either didn't remember or had been acquired when he was gone. Five years ago, they had grown to a place where he had begun to make concessions for her. Now, with everything between them: her having Trunks without him and his desire to use Trunks to achieve his ends…he might be the Saiyan that came within a hairsbreadth of killing her that day they met. She wondered if being Trunks' mother offered her _any_ protection at all…or if he would just use her for her genius, like he said. It drove her crazy that she didn't know. Once upon a time, she could have told you more about the prince than any other person on Earth.

And then…he disappeared one night and suddenly, she realized that she hadn't anticipated _that_ at all.

She gathered what she needed from the lab and then checked on Trunks, who was sitting in the middle of his room looking around. "Will my toys fit in space?"

" _Toys_ …" Vegeta muttered incredulously under his breath. "What a foolish thing to be concerned about…"

Trunks frowned, likely because that half-Saiyan hearing was incredible. Bulma rubbed her forehead, trying to hide her uncertainty from her little boy. She was Trunks' mother and she wasn't going to let him think that she didn't know the plan, or that he should have any reason to be afraid.

"Baby, just pick three of your favorite toys and pack them, alright? I'll get the rest."

Trunks nodded. "Okay."

The little boy didn't speak a word to his father, nor his father to him. Trunks seemed to have taken a rather quick dislike to the Saiyan and Bulma really didn't blame him…but on a very basic level, she also didn't want Trunks to hate the man that had a part in creating him.

If it didn't affect Trunks, it would be entirely Vegeta's cross to bear. She would consider that later, when she didn't hate Vegeta quite so much.

"You coddle the brat," Vegeta said once he had steered her away from their son's room and back towards her own.

"What? Because I don't tell him that his father is forcing us to move to his planet without any idea whether we are returning to everything he knows? Would you prefer for me to tell him that?"

Vegeta clenched his jaw, because that was obviously _not_ what he wanted her to tell the boy, but he also couldn't admit that he would care about such a thing.

"Look. I may understand that I have no choice to come with you. But Trunks is _my_ kid, okay? It's my job to make things okayfor him. I have to do that…no matter what the situation. Because he's my son and that's what you do. And if anybody plans to interfere with that, I'll either kill them or die trying. I don't care if the problem is a human or a Saiyan." She gave him a pointed look and he stepped into her space.

"Think twice before you threaten me."

Bulma smiled bitterly. "I'm not threatening you, _my prince_. You've already said that Trunks and I are useful to you. But what about your cronies? From what I remember, your nanny-goat second-in-command hated me with a passion. What's to stop him from trying something? What's he going to do when he finds out that I had your baby?"

Vegeta scoffed. "You think I can't protect you from _Nappa_?"

Bulma spread an arm wide. "He won't be the only one! I'm sure there's a whole _planet_ of Nappas waiting for me and Trunks when we get there. What are you going to do?"

"Get this straight, Woman. Nobody opposes me and lives. And besides," he said with a bitter laugh of his own, "you know nothing of my planet. All we honor is strength."

"And I'm not strong…" she reminded him, as if she had to.

He actually smirked. "Your strong in your way, little female. You just threatened to kill anyone who harmed your offspring. Sometimes…you sound very Saiyan."

She turned away to gather her things in her room, unimpressed with the remark though she knew damn well that it was a big compliment coming from Vegeta. "I don't want to _be_ a Saiyan. I want to stay here." Her voice was quiet. "I wish you had never come back here."

She jumped back when he swiped one hand in front of her, easily taking down an entire shelf in her closet. When she turned back to look at him in shock, his face never wavered. "This is your future for now. Accept it. I don't have patience for your _wishes_ and _wants_ , Bulma. Finish this up, you have thirty minutes." He stalked away from her then, but didn't leave the room. And history hung in the air between them like an unwelcome stranger.

Boiling mad, she refused to speak to him the entire time she placed all of her essentials in a bag and then Trunks' things. Vegeta only paused to tell her not to pack too many clothes, he would provide what she needed for space. Defiantly, she shoved some more bras and panties into her pack. She doubted he would provide _that_.

And then she was standing before Vegeta's ship, well-hidden in the forest nearby. Trunks hovered curiously next to them before saying "wow, Mama, this looks like something you would make!"

Perhaps that brought her baby comfort, because he was more pliant when she handed him his bag and told him to put it on his back. Anything familiar would help, probably.

And then Nappa, the big bald Saiyan who despised her, came into view. "Your Highness! That was quick!"

"There was a change in the plan, Nappa." The big man's lips turned downward when Bulma shifted into his sight from behind Vegeta. And then his mouth dropped when he saw Trunks, his feet barely treading the ground as he floated beside her.

"What's this?"

"Who's that?" Trunks asked his mother, staring as openly as Nappa was. "He's as big as Mr. Piccolo!"

"He's your dad's…friend," Bulma said lamely. "He's always grumpy." She figured warning Trunks away from Nappa wasn't such a bad idea. Trunks scowled.

"Is everyone we meet from this place going to be mean?"

What a question. Bulma wisely chose not to answer and realized that Vegeta had put himself back in between Nappa and mother and son. "It appears that I won't need Kakarot's half-breed spawn. Obviously, something I hadn't anticipated came to pass."

Nappa leaned around Vegeta to eye Trunks again, he studied him for some long moments and Bulma watched him take in the child's expression, his age, the shape of his face, the pastel colors of his features, the fact that he was airborn. And then he snorted.

"With all due respect, Prince Vegeta, you sure that the child is yours? This woman could be tricking you."

Bulma was surprised that the insulting comment would cause Vegeta enough anger to put a dent in his ship, but the next thing she knew, Nappa was pulling himself out of a small crater along the side. Trunks laughed out loud in delight that also surprised Bulma. He had always loved to fight, and she had known for a long time that it was a trait from his father… but the pleasure reminded her a little _too_ much of Vegeta. She frowned at her son and was relieved to see him rubbed the back of his head, abashed and once again her little boy.

"That guy said you were tricking my papa. You wouldn't do that!"

Vegeta didn't seem to have heard or appreciated the irony of the comment though, since he strode towards his comrade who was now back on his feet. "Read his power level, you idiot! The boy could likely pound _you_ into the ground. Kakarot's spawn didn't even display this initial power. And tell me, Nappa…do you take me for a fool?"

"N-no…my prince. Of course not." The bald Saiyan did shoot a glare at Bulma as he said it, but his eyes were contrite when they fell upon Vegeta. "But why not kill the blue-haired wench? Take your offspring and leave her. She will bring nothing but trouble, just like she always has!"

"You forget yourself, Nappa," Vegeta said softly. It was a dangerous tone. "The woman is _very_ useful to _me_. And so no one will lay a hand on her, lest they wish to end their life that day. Do you understand me? I owe you no explanation and I will tell you whatever I see fit, whenever I see fit. You follow orders! Nothing more."

Nappa was cowed by the harsh words and bowed his head. "Yes, my prince. I understand. I merely wonder what your father—"

"If my father objects to _any_ of my activites, Nappa," Vegeta interrupted with a bored tone, "I will kill him and assume my place as King of All Saiyans. Now enough of this! Prepare the ship for takeoff."

"Of course."

When they were alone again and boarding Vegeta's ship, Bulma had to clamp down on the urge to tell him 'I told you so'. But she could see by his tenseness that he was thinking the same thing.

She also thought about Vegeta's father, someone that Vegeta had rarely spoken about, and never with love or affection. What would his father do if he saw a human come back with Vegeta to his planet? And would Vegeta be mad if he had to do as he said and kill his father for objecting to Bulma's presence, along with a half-blood son?

"You told him!" Trunks said with relish as he gave Vegeta the first semi-friendly look that she had seen all day. "Is everyone who is Saiyan a big jerk? Or just the bald guy?"

His father stiffened. "You will soon see that Saiyans don't care about being nice or having _manners_. That is an Earth custom that your mother has likely impressed upon you. But don't expect it to matter on my planet. If you are strong, you will be fine. That is the most important thing."

Trunks sank until his feet touched the ground and he was walking alongside his mother. She took the boy's hand and while Vegeta curled his lip in disgust, he didn't whine anymore about coddling. "Sounds like your planet doesn't have _any_ mothers!"

Bulma had to give a small smile to her son. Sometimes, kids would say the funniest things.

Shockingly, Vegeta's lips turned upwards too. "Not quite. In fact, I'd say many of the women are like your mother."

" _As you wish, Prince Vegeta."_

 _It all happened so fast. Bulma's mouth opened at the horrible exchange, but the air for any scream came apart and Raditz was raising his hand and a little, vicious animal mauled the large alien with fervor._

" _You leave my daddy and Miss Bulma alone!" Gohan cried. He landed punch after punch on a shell-shocked Raditz until his prince finally snarled._

" _To be defeated by some half-human toddler, Raditz? Perhaps I should take Kakarot along and kill_ _you_ _."_

 _Raditz finally moved to block the assailing blows, but Bulma still had to guess whether he was trying or if he actually had compunction in hurting a child. Gohan was still overtaking him and the boy's fists were too fast to track. And still, the other two Saiyans just_ _watched_ _while this happened. "I won't let you kill my daddy!"_

 _With a cry of rage, Raditz finally grasped Gohan's wrist and kneed the boy in the stomach._

" _Gohan!"_

 _He was panting with exertion, but by this time, Goku had recovered enough to rush to his son's aid and take a stance between his brother and Gohan. "Leave him outta this!" Goku said. "Your problem is with_ _me_ _. Not Gohan, not Bulma. Me!"_

" _For a few moments, your own son appeared to have battle power that surpasses your own," Prince Vegeta said from the side. "If you won't join us, I suppose I'll settle for the boy taking your place."_

" _What?!" Bulma exclaimed._

" _We'll see." Goku's eyes were challenging._

" _I can see the fire in your eyes, brother. You should come with us! It's in your blood, you love to fight."_

 _Bulma had to admit that was true. But she could already see the writing on the wall with this fight, the possible results leaving her cold. It was unthinkable… Goku and Gohan in danger? Who else stood a chance?_

" _Kill Kakarot. We'll take the boy," Vegeta ordered._

 _She didn't know what gave her the guts to do it, but before a thought entered her mind, she was rushing before Vegeta, grabbing his arm with such intense purpose, that he seemed struck into freezing, allowing her to hang on._

" _No! No, you can't…" She cried out in pain when the prince wrenched her closer._

" _Why can't I, weakling?"_

" _B-because!" She cast out for something. "Why—why do you think you couldn't break my honing device? I proofed it for Goku so he wouldn't break it! And I…I can make you stronger." In his clinch, under the pure heat of him, she didn't cringe away. She didn't break his gaze. And he didn't break hers._

" _I can make you much stronger."_

Strength. Bulma shook her head out of memories…strength was still the only language Saiyans spoke. She thought of Vegeta's smirk earlier, when he told her that she was strong… in her own way. And it was odd…from Day 1, she had had to prove herself to Vegeta to win the survival of herself and her friends. And though they had both changed, both evolved from that time years ago, she wondered if overcoming Vegeta was going to be as hard as she thought. Yes, he could surprise her, but he had also learned to depend on her years ago. And old habits, she realized with burgeoning hope, they died hard.

A/N: Review please! Tell me what you think of the plot. As you can probably tell, it's pretty AU. But I'm mapping out a fun ride. Thanks for reading!


	3. When Saiyans Mate

A/N: Anybody ever moved their work to AO3? I was thinking about it because of the freer policy with content, but I'm also not crazy about the basic set up of the site. Thoughts on that? Would anybody WANT me to put this story on there? I might be able to add some other things there, if you know what I mean… ahem. Thank you to all who reviewed!

Vegeta monitored Bulma and the boy closely until they had left the planet's atmosphere. He knew that Bulma was well-capable of trashing the ship if she had the mind to, but she wouldn't risk endangering herself or their offspring by attempting to crash it now. He showed them to a room where they could leave their things and then left them to find Nappa and distribute orders.

"We will be planet-side in a few standard weeks, sire." Nappa said as Vegeta approached him. Vegeta grunted in agreement, knowing that Nappa was afraid to say what he wanted to about the situation at hand.

"Prince Vegeta… I understand that these new developments have come as a shock for you, but—"

"I don't want to hear it, Nappa. I've told you—"

"This was not your mission," Nappa said flatly, raising his voice to be heard. Vegeta fell silent, willing to hear his second out if he was willing to be bold.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but I thought the plan was to study the hybrid Saiyan _here_ , with the blue woman assisting, and then to take what you've learned to Vegeta-sei or wherever you wished to train to defeat Freiza. Or kidnapping Kakarot's son if all else failed, but this?"

"I went to find the woman in her paltry laboratory and there I found a child of my blood," Vegeta responded. "How can I ignore such an occurrence? I have grown since those years past, _because_ I've been from planet to planet, searching for it. We can be certain about one thing: hybrid Saiyans have the potential for varying degrees of power. They are not weak caste. And if Earthling blood is the most powerful asset to Frieza's defeat, I do not care what all of Vegeta-sei thinks!"

"But why take the woman and child home with you, my prince? Your father has not seen you in ten standard years and you choose now to go home and you bring a human woman and your illegitimate offspring?"

"Since when has legitimacy ever matter to the Saiyans, Nappa?" Vegeta said. "Yes, my plan was to develop my knowledge on Earth, with Kakarot's half-breed. But I'm no longer interested in him, I have no reason to be. One hybrid is just as good as another, moreso if you measure basic power level. My son is strong, as befitting a first-class warrior. And I will not allow my son to be raised as an Earthling, ignoring half of his history!"

Nappa wouldn't look at his prince, busying himself with piloting. "Are you sure that is all?"

Vegeta crossed his arms, having waited for Nappa to break. "What's that to mean, Nappa? Do you think I'm being _dishonest_ with you? Put the ship on autopilot and face me."

Nappa obeyed and faced Vegeta. "Perhaps, you are being dishonest with yourself…"

"Go on."

His second took a breath. "Perhaps your ties to the pretty little Earthling woman are still as strong as they ever were. Saiyans…when they mate, ah—you fled her bed all those years ago for a reason, my prince. She was your first attraction. It is _unnatural_ for—"

An increasingly frequent position for Nappa, he found himself choked by his liege, but this time, the prince was _trying_ , expending energy in cutting off his oxygen. "You imply," Vegeta growled, "that I care about that bitch. On that score, you are very wrong. Listen to me carefully, Nappa. I meant what I said; anyone who touches that woman will answer to me—but not because I have any _care_ for her. Were _you_ not useful to me, I would disintegrate you. The very same goes for her!" He released Nappa and his hands swept over his breastplate nonchalantly while Nappa's gasped back into awareness. "Once I overthrow Frieza, I will take my father's place, and when I do…there will be no more weakness glorified on Vegeta-sei. We will _not_ be vassals beholden to a tyrant's whims!

"Do you not think I realize how narrowly I escaped Frieza's hand as a boy? Why do you think I left? To remove myself from Frieza's radar and quietly accomplish his missions when it suited him. My father, coward that he is, would have had nothing left to compromise, no more second sons, and he _would_ have handed me over. I chose. And I choose now, Nappa. The woman has unparalleled abilities, I've seen them myself. And if that achieves me anything, I will not do away with it. And woe to anyone who gets in my way!"

Vegeta stalked out of the room, leaving Nappa to pant on the floor, no more convinced than when Vegeta started.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Vegeta strode down the corridor, trying and failing not to be incensed by his conversation with Nappa. As if Vegeta didn't know what he was doing! He hadn't lost sight of his intended goal, but Nappa forgot himself, and Vegeta occasionally had to remind him of his place. He had yet to shake off his fury when he entered the room that he had designated for Bulma and the brat. The brat's ki was slow and even, indicating sleep. When they had entered the ship, the little half-Saiyan had ricocheted from one end of the ship to the other, loudly asking questions that he didn't seem to expect any answers to. Besides the boy's coloring, only the loudness and never-ending babble he had displayed then actually reminded Vegeta strongly of his mother. Clearly, he had exhausted himself of his own chatter.

Next thing he registered was the woman talking to a screen in her lap. She clearly hadn't sensed him yet.

"…I wish I had been able to communicate with you sooner, but he wouldn't let me out of his sight. I'm gonna find a way out of this as soon as I can, but I wasn't sure what Vegeta would do if he had stayed on Earth. I'll make contact again when I can… I know you never pay attention when I tell you anything…but I was cannibalizing the space pod you were sent in as a baby in the hopes that I could, well… my dad will know what I mean when I say, just work on finishing that ship!" Bulma then noticed Vegeta standing in the door and bowed her head again over the screen. "Well, this is goodbye for now, Goku. I'm trusting you with…everything there. You just trust me. Don't try to come after me, okay? You can't breathe in space and you don't have the ability to pilot a ship to get you there."

With that obvious bit of information (though Kakarot, Vegeta remembered, _was_ a moron), she clicked the screen off nonchalantly, as if she wasn't bothered by the fact that Vegeta had overheard part of her conversation.

"Sending out the distress call?" Vegeta said smoothly, walking into the room. He had seen everything she put in her little tech bag and recognized it all as nothing that could track them. And like she had said to Kakarot in her message, there was not really a way her pathetic Earthling friends would be able to save her anyway. Without her, they didn't have the brains to construct anything to assist them.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I don't care what you heard, I haven't made any secret over the fact that I didn't want to go with you. And I'm not going to pretend that I'm not getting Trunks out of here the first chance I get."

"Then I can't trust you," Vegeta said. "Which is a shame, since it's going to make your life far more difficult than it will make mine. I'm the prince and I will have many at my command to watch your every move."

In truth, what she had said before was much closer to the truth. He could command them as long as they feared him…but the Saiyans on his planet would not be receptive to an Earthling woman freely living on Vegeta-sei, and an exotic and beautiful one like herself would be expected to be nothing more than a pleasure slave in his world.

But perhaps he might let them think that… any other gifts she may have would be known only to him. He reached out and stroked the side of her face, considering that. She was completely still as he did so, and he saw her glance toward the bed, where Trunks undoubtedly lay.

"Why did you give the boy such a stupid name?" Vegeta said, withdrawing his hand. He almost mourned the absence of her skin against his palm.

She sent him a haughty look, seemingly unruffled by his touch. "It was my choice. And it's a family name."

"It's a foolish, idiot name."

"Says the man named for vegetables!" She raised her eyebrows at him, but she didn't seem insulted by his words. She never really did. It was one of the more…frustrating things about her. He, on the other hand… he had always known that she sometimes said things just for him to react explosively, even if she hadn't meant them.

It had been a very long time since he was last with a woman. Everything about her right now was seeming very attractive, in fact, it was overriding his desire to snap her neck for trying to keep secret that she had had his child.

"Is that all you even care to know about your son?"

He came out of his reverie to stare at her. "What do you mean, Woman? Why do you think I decided to take you with me? I plan to learn about him once we—"

"You plan to _test_ him. _Experiment_ on him," she corrected him sharply. "I'm talking about what he likes, his favorite foods, how much trouble he gets in, you know…Dad stuff."

Vegeta scoffed. "Why would I have interest in such things? I'm sure he likes to fight and gets into a lot of trouble, he's a Saiyan. And who cares what the boy ingests, as long as it is edible and non-toxic to his system?"

Bulma groaned. "You're as hopeless as you ever were, Vegeta. I don't know why I slept with you."

Vegeta colored at her blasé manner of discussing sex. "Shut up! Still a vulgar woman…"

"I didn't hear you complaining about vulgarity before."

"I did! Many times, I have called you 'vulgar'. You are just an idiot that doesn't pay attention," Vegeta said.

Bulma rubbed her eyes, "I meant… nevermind…"

He knew what she meant, but he found that sometimes letting her think he didn't was actually less of a hassle than arguing with her.

"So…Nappa was happy to see me."

"Tch. It doesn't matter what he thinks. And it's nothing he's not said before."

Bulma looked contemplative. "No, he never did like me…"

" _It pressurizes the room and can multiply the gravity enormously, more than would be on your planet, but it should still make you much stronger if you train in these conditions." She eyed his muscular form in appreciation. "I would hazard a guess that just our Earth being ten times lighter contributes to human's more fragile makeup. As much as I hate to admit it, your constitution is incredible."_

" _Naturally, Woman," Vegeta sneered at her. Every time he looked at her stupid blue head, he was reminded of the fact that he had spared her life and everyone else's on her whim and promise. He recalled her face, warm with determination and the sincerity of her eyes. But he trusted no one, not even his own men, completely. Until he saw results, he wasn't going to rule out snuffing her life out with a tiny ki ball. That's all it would take._

 _She stared at him. "If you keep being so sweet to me, I'm gonna think you have a crush, Vegeta… You should relax."_

 _It always threw him off a little when she used deadpan sarcasm. Her straight face always prompted a moment of hesitation. But when he scowled at her and she grinned, he had to squelch the urge to pull all of her limbs off like torturing an insect. It would be so easy on her so-called fragile human body._

 _He turned away instead. "I will relish your demise."_

 _She had the audacity to pat him on the shoulder. "You're gonna have to wait, buddy. I'm making magic here."_

 _He still thought it was insane of her to be so comfortable with him when only weeks ago, she was practically in pissing her pants at the sight of him, worried that he was going to kill her._

 _She trotted over to the door of her obscene structure and beckoned him with a waving hand. "Come on! Someone's gotta try it out and I don't trust your lackeys to be honest."_

 _He didn't want Nappa and Raditz trying it out anyway. Compared to him, they were both weaklings, especially Raditz. He stepped into the center where she was pointing and turned to face her as she entered the control room. "What am I supposed to do?" he said impatiently._

 _Her voice magnified over the speakers, she was protected where she was in the control room. "Hold on, will you?! I'm trying to figure out what level to set it at."_

" _Your highest! Obviously." Vegeta snarled._

" _No way, Vegeta! I'll pancake you if I do that! Considering your biology, it would be possible, but you'd really have to train up for it. The place can hypothetically go up to 500x Earth's gravity, if it works."_

" _That is nothing I can't handle, you fool woman." He crossed his arms. "And what is a pancake?"_

" _My mom will make it for you sometime. It's very, very flat. Like you'll be if I raise the setting to 500."_

 _Vegeta rolled his eyes at her as he floated to mid-level in the ease of Earth's actual gravity. "Would you stop whining about it and turn it on! I want to experience it's greatest potential and if you don't let me see it, I'll just have to end your life like I've wanted to this entire time!"_

 _There was a long pause there and Vegeta was about to snap at her to hurry it up when she looked over at him and smiled sweetly…but at the same time, the smile_ _didn't_ _seem sweet. "Your wish is my command!"_

 _He smirked arrogantly as she moved to obey him. At least she now understood who was boss. The machine room whirred to life and he felt himself lowering to the ground slowly. He frowned and went to right himself when suddenly an incredibly pressure flung his face into the mats like he would splinter into a thousand pieces._

" _Let me know if it's too much!" Deafened the room. But Vegeta couldn't so much as utter a syllable the way his face was slammed against the floor._

" _I can't hear you! Wave an arm or something!"_

 _He couldn't lift his arm to wave it. Finally, after several agonizing moments, the incredible weight lifted and Vegeta was left panting on the ground. He heard pounding coming closer and saw two slender legs come to rest at his nose. "I_ _told_ _you it was too high!" She knelt at his side. "Are you okay?"_

 _Vegeta turned away from her scent and mumbled, "I should have you executed for treason, Woman. Attempting on the life of the Crown Prince of Vegeta-sei."_

" _You_ _should be executed for treason AND stupidity! You demanded that I put it so high and I didn't even want to!" She tsked sympathetically though. "You are going to have a rough time of it for the next couple of days, you'll be so sore… You're gonna have to take it easy."_

" _What have you done to Prince Vegeta?!" barked a nearby voice. It was Nappa, of course. Vegeta lifted a lame hand._

" _Don't kill her, Nappa. She was running an experiment for me. And it was successful."_

" _He was going to kill me?" Bulma hissed. He smiled slightly at her horrified demeanor._

 _Vegeta sat up with a little effort and he then knew instinctively that he would be crippled the next day. "What do you want, Nappa?"_

" _A communication from Freiza." Nappa held the readout to Vegeta, who swiped it up from his hand. He glanced over it and then crumpled it into a ball._

" _Gather Raditz and meet me at the ship."_

 _It didn't take long for Nappa to follow through and shortly all the true Saiyans congregated around the ship. Vegeta held out his scouter, which he never wore anyway. "You both have a mission."_

" _We do?" Raditz said. Nappa took the proffered object and looked up at his prince._

" _I take it you were ordered as well?"_

" _Yes, but I'm not going. You will keep my scouter to suggest that I am." He held up a hand to stay their protestations. "The Woman has made a breakthrough with her large machine and it is powerful. I will not waste my time purging planets when you two can do it effectively without me. Our goal must always be to first and foremost defeat the Cold Empire."_

 _He looked around at them and saw that they understood his line of reasoning, but neither was too happy about it. Raditz, he knew, was just lazy and didn't want to be sent to purge a planet, especially down a person. But Nappa was a different story. He just didn't know what…_

" _Problem, Nappa?"_

 _Nappa shifted from one overlarge foot to the other. "No, sire. I merely wonder…"_

" _What do you wonder?" Vegeta said lowly and dangerous enough that Nappa debated whether to choose his words carefully._

" _Have you already bedded the blue woman?"_

" _WHAT?" Vegeta roared. He took it about as well as his compatriots would have expected him to. He sputtered with rage. "Why would you even—what would make you—how DARE you! To ask ME, as if it were any of your concern!"_

" _I apologize, my prince," Nappa bowed his head. "I only ask because I wish to impart some advice."_

" _I'm only going to say this once, and if I have to say it again, you'll need a regeneration tank. I'm not fucking the Woman!"_

 _Raditz looked as if he dearly wanted to ask something, but wouldn't for his own well-being._

 _Nappa, on the other hand, wasn't put off so easily. "Your Highness…I must say this. One of the reasons that we Saiyans do not procreate in a natural fashion is because we can develop very…strong attachments. Obviously, whores present no obstacle, as you wouldn't return to one and after the night, you go your separate ways. But in the event you copulate with a woman that you know better…" Nappa winced. "You could find yourself making adjustments for her, changing your desires, your plans, all in the name of mating. And distance will not stop the desire, once you do."_

" _None of this matters because it isn't going to happen. I'm not going to_ _mate_ _with the little Earthling scientist!"_

" _The way you look at her, my prince, forgive me but—"_

 _The fist to his face threw him several yards. Vegeta's arms were crossed too tightly to be comfortable. "Continue this line, Nappa, and the only person in danger will be you."_

 _Nappa stopped at that point, his bald head glistening nervously in the Earth's sun. "I see, my prince. I won't say another word about it."_

 _Vegeta turned to Raditz, who raised his hands in surrender and said absolutely nothing. With one final glare, Vegeta spun back towards Capsule Corp and the newly-christened Gravity Room. "You leave tomorrow morning. Report back here when it is done."_

By the time Vegeta recalled that conversation months later, he was too far involved with Bulma for it to be of any consequence. And as promised, Nappa didn't bring it up again so boldly. But his distaste for Bulma was unreasonably harsh, lest you were privy to that day by the ship.

Months later, he had realized his mistake and fled Earth. And now, here he was, shipping the woman back to his home planet, where he himself hadn't been seen in ten standard years.

But it was about the brat, wasn't it? _Their_ brat.

Vegeta's eyes landed on the bed, where the brat was indeed sleeping soundly on the bed, sprawled out like a starfish ( _another charming trait from his mother_ , Vegeta thought to himself). The boy's hair was so utterly ridiculous that Vegeta was nearly embarrassed by it, however, the power level made up for any aesthetic shortcomings. The boy's face, even in sleep, scowled. That face belonged to him, as did the tanned, overly-muscled limbs. That wasn't a human trait. Vegeta had noticed that most human children were either chubby or frail sticks with no definition. Not so with his brat.

"Honestly, the only time I wish you had been there was to tell me what a Saiyan birth would be like, and if some things were normal," Bulma said, watching him watch their son. She shuddered. "When I was pregnant, he used to kick me so hard, I was sure he was displacing organs and I would hemorrhage to death before I carried to term."

Vegeta grunted, but didn't actually tell her that he was astonished she survived too. Then again, Kakarot's insane shrieking harpy of a wife did it too… Instead, he said, "Saiyans no longer give birth the way that humans do."

Bulma sat up straighter in her chair, intrigued. " _Really_?"

Vegeta sighed, already bored with the discussion and not liking the look on her face that might suggest she would want to talk about it for hours. "No. We are far more advanced than that. They only match our genetic material, collected as soon as we are able, and used whenever ready."

"What an awful story…how can a mother bond with her baby if it's floating in some tank like a science project?"

"She doesn't, you stupid woman!" Vegeta said. "They're Saiyans! What care do they have in bonding with their offspring during fetal development? The baby isn't useful for anything at that point."

"It has nothing to do with being useful!" Bulma said incredulously. "It's about a mother and a child!"

"No," Vegeta said, sitting back. "It's about your little Earthling _feelings_. That doesn't exist for Saiyans, I've told you before."

Bulma was looking at her son. "Yes, it does. You just choose to ignore it because you think it's weakness. And you know, I think part of me used to think like that too, because I didn't want to get hurt either." Her eyes met his, open and heartfelt in a way he hadn't seen in five years. He wanted to turn away from it, because that kind of exposure was not decent to him. However, if felt like weakness to flee from it. "Then I had Trunks, and I didn't know I could feel such love."

Vegeta huffed. "How many times do I have to tell you woman? Love is an Earthling construct. It doesn't exist."

She actually smiled. "It does, though. You may not have felt it, or recognized it, but I _know_ , okay? I love Trunks with absolutely everything in me. And 'love' is the only word powerful enough to describe it."

"Whatever, Woman." He had never been able to relieve her of her little fantasies, so he would just let her think what she wanted. As far as he was concerned, her attachment to the hybrid was good as it could potentially keep her in line. If he didn't have some sort of leverage on her, she would prove to be very difficult, he knew. If she thought that he presented a danger to her little hybrid child, she would be very compliant.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss, Vegeta," Bulma said, her face now much colder. "What you want to do with Trunks. Under no circumstances is he an animal in a lab. Measure his power and abilities all that you want, but that's as far as it goes. I don't even want him to _know_ that you are doing anything but playing with him."

"I don't play, Woman," Vegeta said with disgust. "And you are not in a place to be making demands of me."

"Trunks loves to train. If that's what you do, he'll think it's a game. And if I am the one to examine him, he won't think anything of me doing that. I don't see why Trunks would have to know what you're doing." She didn't address the part where he told her she couldn't make demands of him. "He might just think he's bonding with his father."

"I'm not going to hide anything from the brat. I don't care to expend such energy. But I'm not going to tell him what I'm doing either. Take that as you will. But he _will_ be schooled in his Saiyan heritage as well. No son of mine is going to be ignorant of where he comes from, half-breed or not."

She was very quiet when he talked about school, but he didn't know why. "What is the matter now, Woman?"

She shook her head, the faintest smile on her face. "If I told you, you'd blow up."

"Try me."

She shrugged her slim shoulders. "You just—the way you're talking, it's like…" her smile got a little less faint, but more mocking. "Like we are having a normal parenting conversation. You are talking about Trunks going to _school_. It's weird. But it's cute too."

"I'm not cute," he growled. "And this has nothing to do with the needs of the brat. I don't want him growing up a disgrace to his own kind. Look at Kakarot and his spawn!"

Her smile faded rather quickly at the mention of her friend, sending an uncomfortable pang through him. "Goku isn't a disgrace. Neither is Gohan."

"No, you wouldn't think so, would you? That's another reason I had to get the brat off your planet." Vegeta finally stood up, done with this mindless chatter. "We will be there in a few weeks. Until then, make yourself comfortable, keep your hands off the controls and stay out of Nappa's way."

"Staying out of Nappa's way won't be a problem," Bulma said. "I honestly don't know why anyone would volunteer for his company."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Then I'll keep him in the engine room, so I don't have to break your little fingers to keep you from touching anything."

She raised her eyebrows. "As if I would do anything so obvious." She stood up and stretched, yawning, her shirt lifting and giving him a glimpse of her bare stomach. He looked at her intently so that when she lowered her arms, she seemed to know what he was thinking and he saw a slight blush in her cheeks. It had always been near impossible to make the vulgar woman become embarrassed about anything.

"What?" he said defensively when she didn't look away. She was watching him rather carefully, in fact.

"Nothing," she said. "You were just looking at me like _that_ , and I thought…"

"What?"

"Where are we going to live, Trunks and I?" She sounded genuinely curious.

He knew what she was _really_ asking, but if she wasn't going to be direct, neither was he. "At the palace, Woman." He saw her blink, so slowly, a span of a heartbeat and he was right in front of her, invading her space. It had always entertained him to use his considerable speed to throw her off, puny human that she was. "I'm keeping you very close to me, for several reasons." He raised his hand and she gasped at the shock of his coldness gripping her neck, warm and delicate. "Don't forget that."

He wanted to taste her, to dominate her, to make her sorry that she had ever said she didn't want him around. Perhaps having her beg his name as she rose to a climax would be sufficient for him…but he didn't know. He looked at her, so beautiful…and Nappa's warning rang true in the back of his head. Again, she was very, very still when he touched her. Curiously, he leaned in and breathed against her neck like he was smelling her. She didn't move, but he heard the catch in her chest.

His self-control was fantastic and born of years of practice, so he slowly withdrew from the skin of her neck, his face was clear of absolutely anything. "My father will not be pleased that I've brought you with me. He will not understand your purpose."

"That makes two of us," she muttered.

"Keeping you near is the only way to ensure your safety, for as long as I need you."

And as long as he wanted her.

A/N: Vegeta is stone cold. I'm not giving you too much insight into HOW he feels about B for a reason. He's not into feelings, even less than he was in DBZ. There will be more to the backstory later on. Also, Nappa gets beaten up a lot, doesn't he? I almost feel bad. Also, there was a question about Bardock? Truthfully, he will not be essential to this fic at all. The focus is really V/B with Trunks. Goku and Gohan will be present later on, but I never really went in for the whole "Bardock is a Super Saiyan" stuff. That always come off as very random and off to me. And there was no stand against Frieza because Frieza didn't destroy the planet in this fic. So if you are reading and waiting for him to be a big part of this story, you will be disappointed. Sorry to say! But PLEASE review and tell me what you think about the story! Little encouragement goes a long way.


	4. Useful

A/N: Sorry this came so late! I was at a retreat over the weekend and didn't get to write at all, so I'm trying to catch up a little now! Thanks to **hisuichanxx, maxridelover, ElsaBriefs, elsi, wiz2mii, Son of Whitebeard, suksuzukipuki, sora 79, MBLMA,** and **a guy** lol for reviewing! As always, it is very much appreciate and encouraging. Please keep giving me your thoughts! Feedback is the best thing for any story!

" _Hey, Bulma!" Goku was waving frantically as Bulma landed at Kame House. He enthusiastically flew up to the door and lifted her out of the pod._

" _Geez Goku, what's got you so excited?" Bulma said as he set her on her feet. She hadn't received a welcome like that from him in a long time._

" _He wants to know about the Saiyans," Krillin said._

" _And so do I!" Yamcha put in. "Hey, none of them have done anything to you, right Bulma? They're not still threatening you?"_

" _No," Bulma said. She shrugged. "As long as I'm useful to their 'prince', all of our lives are as safe as they can be." Then, she actually smiled at Goku. "You know, they gave me new tech too! Your brother Raditz let me look at his pod and scouter."_

" _Yeah, it's great," Yamcha said with a note of bitterness in his voice. "They only threatened to kill us all."_

 _Bulma scowled at him. "Don't start in on this again."_

" _On what? HE was the one who threatened to kill you, not me!"_

 _Bulma sighed, deciding to ignore Yamcha and his bait. Anytime they broke up, they both were taken to provoking each other and she didn't have time for that today. "Look, I came because I got a spare minute to talk about the Dragonballs."_

 _There was a rippled gasp. She had said it almost casually, yet they all knew that it wasn't a casual subject. "You're not planning on using them?" Krillin asked. "You don't_ _need_ _them do you?" He gulped. Those Saiyans scared the crap out of him, and he wouldn't be surprised if they had to bring someone back to life, like Bulma's parents, because one of them lost their temper._

" _No! That's exactly what I wanted to talk about. The Saiyans don't know about the Dragonballs and they can NEVER know about them," Bulma said in enough of an undertone that the others had to lean in to hear her. "Especially Vegeta."_

" _Well I don't disagree with that," Master Roshi said. "But how do you know they don't already know about them?"_

" _Because if they had known, Vegeta would have killed us all and started looking for them," Bulma said solemnly. She had no illusions about the Saiyan Prince's character, despite the fact that they were in a tentative truce based on her ability to increase his battle power. "Plus…there are only so many people who know about the Dragonballs and most of them are here. Also, I went to the mountain and asked Piccolo about it. Whether he had talked to any of them. He said he had only had a brief encounter with Raditz before Raditz was called back to Nappa and Vegeta through his scouter. He was a little annoyed that I had gone to find him, actually. He's a pretty lonely guy."_

 _Varying degrees of shock came at that declaration. "Are you crazy?!" demanded Yamcha._

" _Obviously not, since I'm still here, very much alive." Bulma said coldly, getting annoyed by Yamcha's attitude._

" _Yeah, well…luck only goes so far, babe." Yamcha said. The other witnesses to this exchange were now looking away awkwardly, except for Goku, who, for all of his social ineptitudes, at least knew to be quiet._

" _Ugh! You know what?" Bulma snarled, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't come around Capsule Corp anymore! If I need help, I'll be sure not to ask YOU for anything." She looked around at the rest of them. "I just came here to say that under no circumstances can Vegeta or the other Saiyans know about the Dragonballs. If they do, we could lose everything we have for leverage, because it's not beyond Vegeta to wish himself to more power, or even immortality._

" _So don't use the Dragonballs, don't talk about them or even think about them! All of our lives are at stake." She glanced around at them all pointedly, even the chastened Yamcha. "And don't die, because trying to wish you back would expose our secret and basically put the Dragonballs in Vegeta's hands."_

 _With that, Bulma turned to leave, patting Goku briefly on the shoulder. He was the only one she saw much at all anymore, since he and his brother had developed a pretty weird relationship that consisted mainly of beating each other up… and she could always count on him to at least to try and protect her if anything happened._

" _Bulma!" It was Yamcha's voice_ _again_ _that called out. She debated completely ignoring him, but then decided to be the bigger person this time and turned around._

" _What?"_

" _How…how long are they going to stay?" The question was tentative and hung in the air. The others were looking too, clearly wondering the same thing._

" _I don't know," Bulma said finally. "But we'll have to keep our guard up as long as it takes."_

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"Boy."

Bulma was awake now, but he had come hours earlier to wake up his son and instead found her _cuddling_ with the brat while they slept. Apparently, it was the only way to keep either of them from laying claim to the entire bed in a most undignified fashion. He could sense her ki moving to the bath to take a shower and figured that this was his chance.

The boy's lavender hair was a disastrous mess, unfortunate he didn't have Saiyan hair so he could avoid such difficulties. And his mouth was hanging open as he sprawled out like a starfish now that his mother wasn't hemming him in. The boy would have his own bed on Vegeta-sei. No more of this tactile, touchy-feely _nonsense_.

"Boy!" Vegeta yelled and the child snapped awake mid-snore.

He blinked blearily up at the man standing over him, before rocketing up and looking around with an impressive shift in alertness. "Where's my mama?" he said, the scowl on his face ever-present.

"She's bathing herself in there," Vegeta said carelessly. "You mustn't cling to her like some swaddled infant. It is shameful in a royal brat. Now, show me your fighting stance."

Not seeming at all thrown off by the shift in conversation, the boy immediately shifted into a passable position with no small deal of excitement, legs half-crouched and fists clenched, but Vegeta tch-ed with disappointment. "I see that that imbecile Kakarot has been giving you pointers."

"Kaka…" Trunks tilted his head in confusion. "Karot? Kaka-karot? I don't know an imbecile named that."

Vegeta sniffed. "You do, if you would pronounce it right. You call him by his idiot Earthling name, I'm sure. In any case, that is not important. What _is_ important is that we are going to train."

"Really?" The boy asked, his eyes wide and bright. That was good, Vegeta noted. If he recalled correctly, Kakarot's brat Gohan, did not like to fight. But when prompted, his bursts of rage were useful in boosting his power to such a degree that he was able to take down warriors who were a great deal older and stronger than him.

A lack of enthusiasm for fighting didn't seem to be a problem for his son. And that was as it should be. And he wondered if rage would do the same for this hybrid, and what he could use to manipulate that rage…

Trunks swiveled his head to the side as the shower turned off and moments later, Bulma emerged from the door of the bathroom with a cloud of steam, robed in a towel. She stopped short when she saw the surprise occupant of the room. "Vegeta…"

"Woman."

"Why do you call her that?" Trunks said. "Mama's name is Bulma."

"I know that," Vegeta growled indignantly. The kid was a know-it-all, just like his mother. "I prefer to call her 'woman'."

"Why?"

"Because that's what she is!" Vegeta snapped.

"Uhhh…" Bulma looked between them with her mouth hanging open, seeming surprised by the interaction. Still clutching the towel, she bent and went to grab some clothing. "I'll be right back. I'm going to change…"

"Oh, do change here," Vegeta said. "I wouldn't mind." The innuendo out of his mouth seemed to surprise him more than it did Bulma. But then, she was annoyingly unfazed by most things. Stupid Woman.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Bulma responded dryly. "However, Trunks might."

Vegeta glanced dismissively at the puzzled child on the bed. "Leave, brat."

"No way!" Trunks glared, then looked to his mother for help.

"Hey, Vegeta!" He smirked because he could tell she wanted to put her hands on her hips, but could not without dropping the towel protecting her form. "Knock it off. I'm changing in the bathroom." She glanced between them. "My son doesn't go anywhere until I get back."

"Hn." Vegeta debated grabbing the brat by the scruff and hauling him off to the gravity room anyway, but then decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Better to lull the woman into a false sense of security and take more daring moves later on. He was playing a long game after all… the Woman thought she was going to run a quick study on her son, give Vegeta his answers and return to her own planet with their brat.

But it wasn't that simple.

Trunks was watching Vegeta with a strange mix of awe and disgust as Bulma disappeared back into the adjoining room.

"I don't like you, even if you're really my papa" Trunks declared. "But I will train with you."

Vegeta found himself smirking again, because the boy did remind him of himself, the imperiousness and brutal honesty. "'Like' means nothing to me. But I am your father and you _will_ respect me. And you will train with me. That is what I require."

Trunks shrugged. "Okay." He hopped off the bed. "I need to put on my shorts."

The boy danced around too much, and was far too excitable. That would have to be worked out of him. The child rummaged through his bag at a sedate pace, obviously willing to heed his mother's order to stay there until she returned.

When she did, she was dressed in her usual human attire, revealing more skin than necessary, as she always did.

"Is that appropriate attire to wear while conducting your research?" Vegeta wondered aloud. Bulma, as expected, immediately sent him a fierce glare.

"I guess I forgot my lab coat when you kidna—" she stopped, glancing quickly at Trunks. "In the rush of everything."

He smirked at her guarding her tongue for the boy's sake. Trunks truly brought a level of control over her that he would have never had before, short of killing her. As long as she remained in their son's presence, she would be careful.

He gave her another up-and-down with distrust. Her seductive qualities were another thing entirely. He remembered that the scientists on his planet most certainly didn't dress like that. If they had, maybe they wouldn't have gone extinct and led the Saiyans to begin appropriating tech from other planets and cultures. He eyed the woman before him, imagining her as Saiyan—when her eyes (he couldn't imagine them as Saiyan black, no… always blue) lit up with brilliance and she leaned into her work, designing things capable of enhancing his species strength tenfold. And possibly more…depending on what they could find in their hybrid son.

"We are going to train now, Woman," Vegeta said.

Bulma, for her part, didn't like the idea of her baby boy training with his father. She knew _exactly_ the type of brutality that Vegeta was capable of…and she also knew that his experience and care with children was abysmal at best. But she also tried to reason with herself. Even in the womb, Trunks' power had the ability to bruise her. She had had to teach him to be gentle with her, his own mother, so she could avoid serious injury just from simple touches.

Honestly, it had really called home just how gentle Vegeta had had to be when he interacted with her physically. While having sex he would have had to keep his head the entire time to avoid hurting her…she quickly realized the level of his self-control just by dealing with a half-Saiyan child who had none of it.

Vegeta may have been stronger than she could comprehend, but so was Trunks…

"Are you going to watch?"

If the two of them came to serious blows, she wouldn't be able to stop it, at least not without probably getting bludgeoned to death in the process. And she didn't trust Vegeta. But she had known all along when he was aiming to do, and right now, she didn't have the power to stop it. But she would get it. No matter what it took.

"I'm coming," she said, and Trunk jumped in the air and whooped, never wanting to miss the opportunity to show off for his mother. He didn't know his opponent, though…

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

 _Bulma squinted at the computer screen, before leaning back and shaking her head. "You gotta be kidding me. Four thousand years plus." Compulsively, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail so it would stop falling into her face, and rubbed her eyes. How could she design a ship going at such a speed that it wouldn't take thousands of years to get to Namek?_

 _She knew that it wasn't completely necessary. But then, who was to say that it wasn't? She didn't trust the Saiyans and she couldn't bank on the chance that they would never find out about the Dragonballs. Hell, Goku was_ _always_ _blabbing things at the drop of a hat. They needed a security policy and a way to get there._

 _Rubbing her temples in methodical circles, she murmured to herself, "I can do this. I will make this happen. I can do this."_

" _WOMAN!"_

 _Bulma gave herself a split second to groan before she tapped out of all of her files, leaving the screen blank before Vegeta appeared at the door._

" _Your damned machine is insufficient!"_

" _How so?" Bulma said brightly. She knew it annoyed him when she responded to his anger with happiness._

"' _How so?' It's breaks constantly!" Suddenly, she found herself nearly nose to nose with him, his arms wired on either side of her—a simple, powerful cage. "Fix it."_

 _The unwarranted rage in his eyes always gave her the instinct to cower, but instead she decided to fulfill some curiosity and leaned forward so their noses really did brush up against each other. He was paralyzed momentarily, so there was no mistaking the caress, and he then drew back in surprise. "What're you—"_

" _No. What are_ _you_ _doing?" she said. "It's so rude to come barging into someone's lab because you broke something that they made for you."_

" _I did_ _not_ _—"_

" _Never mind invading their personal space and glaring murderously at them." She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. "And all without taking a shower. You_ _really_ _need to learn some manners, Vegeta!"_

 _He actually growled at her. Like an animal would. "If you were anyone else, I would have ripped your intestines out by now. Be thankful for my mercy."_

" _And if_ _you_ _were anyone else, I would not be making or fixing any damn thing for you! You know, I have other things to do! I don't just sit around here, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to come over here and threaten me and demand that I fix what you break!"_

" _Like anything you do is more important than that," Vegeta sneered. "A weakling like you can only serve more powerful beings."_

" _Wanna bet?" Bulma muttered, turning back to her computer…not to do anything on it, but just to give the impression that she was ignoring him. She expected him to start yelling again, or to punch something in her lab, because smashing things when he didn't get his way was a favored pastime of his._

 _But instead she heard silence. A silence so long that she thought that maybe he had left. She didn't dare turn around and find out, though. Then she felt something tug at the back of her head. Her hair tie parted company with her hair and she felt it her long, blue strands drop around her face and down her back._

 _She felt his warm, big hands parting through her locks curiously. And it felt nice, so she let him for a few long moments. She didn't ask him what he was doing. She didn't tell him to stop. She briefly thought of Yamcha's hands, but didn't know why. And then she forgot when one of his palms drifted lower and rested on the back of her neck, flexing experimentally._

" _Soft," he murmured._

 _It was very, very hot quite suddenly. She whipped her head around to face him and she saw it—that intent fascination in his eyes, like he had never done or seen such a thing as simple as touching a woman's hair. But the moment their eyes met, that fascination flickered and died and he was scowling at her as firmly as ever._

" _Fix my machine."_

 _He was gone before she could fully blink or the words could register. And in her pique, she shouted back, "It's MY machine!"_

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"I thought I would never have the displeasure of seeing you again," Bulma said to the person who came up behind her. He stood next to her, watching the scene before them. Vegeta was putting Trunks through paces in the little Gravity Room she constructed so many years ago for his ship, not attacking him, but letting the boy attack and countering the blows easily. There was nothing on his face, no indication that he was thinking anything whatsoever.

"The feeling is mutual, female," Nappa returned. He kept his arms crossed, and didn't look at her. "Ever since the Prince met you, you have been nothing but a chaotic, troublesome distraction." She glanced at the big aliens knuckles and heard them cracking, saw that they were white with restraint. She was under no allusions about Nappa either, she had never been. The Prince's second had _always_ wanted her dead. And he had never made any secret of it. But before, Vegeta was always sending him on the missions that Freiza gave the Saiyans so that he could cover and Nappa wouldn't have to stay on Earth for too long, lest he started shoving his hands through peoples' chests.

"If Vegeta felt the same way, he would have already killed me," Bulma reminded him. "And if he doesn't want me dead, your hands are pretty much tied."

"It would be worth it, I think," Nappa said lowly. "You have bewitched him and I have allowed it to go on. I have not done my job, thinking that he would leave you and your pathetic planet. And when he did, I rejoiced."

Bulma was surprised that Nappa was revealing so much to her, but the surprise wasn't a positive feeling, but rather an uncomfortable one. Nappa had never had many words for her, and most of them were spit out through barely restrained rage. This thoughtful, calm Nappa was far scarier.

"And then we were on-planet and we found a Saiyan hybrid. It was a complete mishap. But there was no mistaking what he was… and the hybrid had the abilities of his own race along with a Saiyan strength. I rue the day we went there. And I rue the day that Vegeta met you. Because of course, right after that, the Prince started thinking about Kakarot's brat and then he gave the order." He sighed. "I _knew_ he wouldn't stop at the brat. I _knew_ that he would go to you as soon as the opportunity presented itself."

"Mama, are you watching?" Trunks cried from the other end. Even she could see that his movements were appropriately clumsy for a boy of almost five years old, Saiyan or not.

"I'm watching," she called back.

Vegeta turned at the sound of her voice, but his face was cold. She saw his eyes flit to Nappa before he re-focused on Trunks' childish attempts to pummel him.

"And then he left me on the ship and found you and your little abomination," Nappa said. Bulma tried to plug down on the anger she felt at his reference to Trunks. "And the next thing I know, you are here. And he isn't going to let you go this time. I know it."

"That's not true," Bulma said, feeling a small pit of dread return again. "He just wants me to test Tr—"

"You are a _fool_ if you think that he is going to take you to his planet and then return you just as quickly. You may know your Earth customs and your silly emotions, but you don't know about Saiyan customs or…what Saiyans do instead of emotion." Nappa finally looked at her, and his face was dark with rage. "He hasn't stepped foot on his home planet since he was very young and brash. And now he returns and brings an alien woman and their half-breed son and will expect the love of the people? You will destroy him!"

Bulma wanted to say several things. She wanted to tell this stupid, smelly brute that she at least knew Vegeta well enough to know that he only gave a damn about getting stronger. Being a loved prince meant much less to him. She wanted to tell him not to sell her short, because if he thought she couldn't outsmart Vegeta, than he was dumber than he looked. And she also wanted to tell Nappa that he was grossly overestimating Vegeta's feelings for her.

"They're not _feelings_ ," Nappa snarled, and Bulma stepped back, not realizing that she had spoken the last bit aloud. "He desires you in a Saiyan way. He wants to _possess_ you. Feelings have nothing to do with it!"

Vegeta had told her that often enough. And he always told her to shut up about her own feelings. She remembered having sex with him as he marked her with his teeth and growled "Mine, mine, mine" over and over. But she wasn't about to share that with Nappa.

"He doesn't… he wants—"

"Yes, he does!" Nappa roared, grabbing her by the throat. "Don't pretend you know a damn thing!" Even though she had sensed his growing anger, she was still shocked that he had laid a hand on her, of course, that may also have been, in part, lack of blood going to her brain… She scrabbled against the back of Nappa's meaty hands helplessly, before she was thrown sideways and dropped to the ground.

"LET GO OF HER!"

She scrambled up immediately, her back aching, and saw that Trunks had seen the confrontation once it got violent and had come to her aid. But there was an energy whipping up around him that she could feel. He attacked Nappa furiously and, much like Gohan did with Raditz years ago, Trunks was overpowering the older Saiyan.

But she couldn't really see or understand…she had never been able to follow those battles they waged on each other. And she was worried that perhaps she wasn't seeing it right. Bulma's eyes cast around the room for Vegeta and found him walking towards them, slowly, with a smirk on his face.

"Vegeta, stop him!" She honestly didn't know whether she meant Nappa or Trunks, she just knew that she wanted to stop this before her boy got hurt. Nappa wouldn't have a problem hurting an "abomination" to his Saiyan pride. "Please!"

The smirk didn't fade. "You know how I like it when you beg."

His callousness panicked her. What had she gotten her and her son into with this man? "PLEASE!"

Like lightning, Vegeta was between his son and Nappa, barely blocking one of Trunks' shots. "That's enough, boy. Nappa won't touch your mother again."

"How do _you_ know?" Trunks shot back hotly, panting with rage. He lashed out a kick at his father, but his initial outburst had already been interrupted and he was calming down, so Vegeta parried it without trouble.

"Because I said that I would not allow it, and I won't." With that, Vegeta turned to Nappa, who was looking somewhere between incredulous and stricken. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your life right now for disobeying my directive. And give it to me _very_ quickly, Nappa."

His second didn't wait. He immediately sank to his knees and bent his bald head. "I beg your pardon, my prince. I forgot myself and I ask your mercy. I will not disobey your order again."

"You will do more than that, Nappa," Vegeta said, taking a step closer to his comrade. "You will now protect that woman with your own life. If anyone wishes her harm on Vegeta-sei…if she dies, you die. Am I making myself clear?"

Nappa bowed his head again. "Most clear, Your Majesty."

Bulma had to stifle bitter laughter at that, just from what Nappa said only minutes ago about it being worth it to end her life to "free Vegeta" or whatever… She would _never_ trust that guy. She didn't care what vows he made to his prince. If he thought she needed to be eliminated, well… she definitely couldn't turn her back on him.

"Are you alright, Mama?" Trunks had crept over to her when she had been watching the exchange. Her little boy, her sweet, innocent little boy didn't care about the Saiyans or their power plays. He just wanted to know that she was okay. Her heart both melted and cried out for him.

"The only reason I'm not killing you," Vegeta said, "is that you happened to do something that was quite useful to me. Even though you didn't mean it to happen, it is enough for me to spare you this time." Vegeta slowly turned and found her eyes and his own were smiling in some awful way. "It was very useful."

Small, muscular arms squeezed her slightly and she came back to herself. "I'm…I'm fine, Trunks," she said past the lump in her throat. She gathered him to her and he let her, while casting hateful looks in the direction of her attacker.

"If he hurts you again, I'll kill him, Mama."

And then she remembered, her sweet little boy…was a Saiyan.

A/N: My Saiyans really like to strangle humans, don't they? Or at least Bulma… Thanks for being so patient this time! Reviews always appreciated! Any insights you have at all, I would love to hear.


	5. Kissing

A/N: Awwww thanks so much to **sukisuzukipuki** (Trunks is a joy! And a complete Mama's boy…but that's part of why I enjoy him so much!) **, a guy** (some of that will be addressed, but not in this chapter because the explanation has to come in a more organic way and Vegeta has no reason to talk about that yet, especially why the Saiyans weren't wiped out…and let's just say, my King Vegeta is a bit more clever than the canon one, but more to come on that) **, elsi** (well, Vegeta thinks its about possession, Nappa fears that he can't control it, so he talks a big game to Bulma, and he's right to be worried, at least as a Saiyan might think) **, Jonnie Joke** (some of Trunks' POV in this chapter! Little Trunks is such fun to write) **, sora 79** (I don't actually include the Saiyan mating thing in this, but it is similar…just less telepathic and surreal than what I've read elsewhere…however the V/B bond is going to be a problem once they arrive, of course) **, maxridelover** (yes, it did, didn't it? You'll see more of his different sides playing a part coming up) **, Amalley** (thank you!) **, TeeLee123** (yeah, Trunks—future and present, is my favorite character and he came from my favorite relationship!) **, elianni** (thanks!) **, lovesorrow** (thank you!) **, and RedSmileyFace** (the Saiyan way of reproduction will be pretty important coming up, but that's all I'm saying ;) and yeah, I'm trying to make Vegeta a little more discerning than the canon-Vegeta, because his relationship with Frieza is way different and more distant, so he's not as crazy and murderous…so he's more reasonable with Nappa) for the awesome reviews! It means so much. Anyway, on to business!

Trunks didn't know much about fathers, but he still knew enough to know that his papa _wasn't_ probably very good at it. For the short years of his life, he had watched Goku and Gohan do things together. Gohan was always saying that his dad wasn't really a normal one, but that Goku tried and he loved him and that was really the most important part of the job.

Trunks was pretty sure his papa didn't even do that. It was like that time Yamcha wanted Trunks to be a baseball player on his last birthday. He had bought him a bat and a glove and told him that he would play catch anytime he liked. But Trunks wasn't interested in playing catch. And his papa reminded him of that. Being a papa to Vegeta was like playing baseball to Trunks. He didn't know how and he didn't want to learn.

But Trunks _did_ want to fight and get strong like Gohan. He and Gohan were the same, except Gohan had his papa to show him things. But now, Trunks did too…and Trunks decided he would be okay with it if that were all his papa wanted to do.

But Trunks was worried for his mother, especially when it came to the guy that called himself "prince of all Saiyans".

Trunks wasn't stupid. He knew Mama was lying to him. She hadn't wanted them to go on this trip, but she had definitely wanted Trunks to _think_ that was what she wanted. She wasn't scared most of the time, but her ki (it was so tiny that if Trunks weren't her son, he probably couldn't read it at all) was fast and worried ever since Vegeta showed up that night. It was like when she had a lot of coffee and a big science thing, when she told Trunks that she would be in her lab and to ask Grandma if he needed anything. But now it was about being in this ship with his papa and the big, bald, nasty guy named Nappa.

Trunks decided that he hated Nappa. Every time the guy looked at his mama, Trunks could feel the spark of _bad_ coming from him. It was strong and it made Trunks worry for his mother. His papa, Vegeta, said that she would be safe. But he didn't even know Vegeta, so why should he believe him? And if Vegeta had made Mama take him on the trip where she was worried most of the time and where big ugly Nappa could grab and hurt her…he couldn't trust Vegeta either.

After Trunks beat up Nappa, he expected to be yelled at or punished…but he wasn't. Instead, his mother stared at him like she sometimes looked at the things in her lab that she couldn't figure out yet. The ones that she really wanted to figure out. And Vegeta, his papa, looked _really_ happy. And Mama looked mad when his papa looked so satisfied.

Mama tightened her grip on him when Vegeta came over to them and put a hand on the top of Trunks' head, the way Goku sometimes did with him and Gohan, except it wasn't as playful or friendly. "What do we have here?" his papa murmured.

Mama pulled him so close that it was almost felt like she was trying to make him disappear. He thought if he weren't partly Saiyan, it would hurt. But when he looked up at her face, she was still mad.

There was a long pause as Vegeta's eyes flickered to his mother's and nobody made a noise, except Nappa panting behind Vegeta. Finally, Mama relaxed her hold.

"I'm fine, thanks, no harm done," she said, but it was like when she said something she didn't mean at all…when Yamcha or Krillin or Goku _really_ annoyed her and they said something stupid to her. Usually, Trunks thought it was funny. "I'd be even better if you stopped looking at my son like he was a piece of meat, Vegeta."

Trunks had _no_ idea what that one meant, but his father narrowed his eyes at Mama, before casting another look at him. "Your neck is bruising, Woman. Boy, stand up."

Trunks found himself jerked into automatic obedience by the curt, adamant tone. But then he looked past Vegeta and glared. "He _hurt_ her."

"Yes," Vegeta said, almost thoughtfully. "I will take it from here."

Mama came to her feet behind him. " _No,_ " she snapped. "This is—you're…" she didn't seem to know what she was trying to say. Then she looked down at Trunks. "Sweetheart, I think we're done training for today. Why don't you go exploring?"

"Yes!" Trunks pumped his fist, not needing to be told twice, and flew out the door, his feet just barely scraping the ground. Or at least, he was going to leave…until he heard his Mama again.

"Vegeta, I said I would help you, but not like this. I know you Saiyans don't think it's a party unless somebody dies a gross, bloody death, but if you think that Trunks—"

"So dramatic as usual! You think I planned this, Woman?" Trunks peeked around the door to see his papa close in on Mama. He felt his muscles coil in warning, as the Saiyan prince lifted a hand, but he stayed very quiet. The four-year old watched as the hand reached out for his mother's neck, gently massaging the bruises there. He felt his Mama's ki rise just a little bit at the touch and he waited, still suspicious of the man who had taken them away. His loud voice didn't match the niceness of his touch and Trunks felt some confusion over it. "Don't you think I would have attacked you myself if that was what I intended?"

"No," Mama said simply. "But I saw the look on your face."

The silence between them was not good. Vegeta looked like he was about to talk back, but then he glanced toward the door and Trunks ducked back, hoping that his father hadn't seen him. He was to be disappointed. "We will talk about this elsewhere. Your brat is still within ear, and I'm sure you don't want him overhearing anything that would disturb his little feelings. Nappa, rise from your utterly disgraceful loss and take care of the ship."

From farther away, Nappa spat on the ground grimly and said, "Yes, Prince Vegeta." He didn't look at Mama or his boss, Trunks' papa. Trunks wondered if Saiyans got beat up a lot of the time. It really seemed like it. If they did, he guessed they weren't _completely_ different from Gohan and Goku. Goku _loved_ getting beat up!

He drifted backward a few feet as the prince pushed Mama towards the door, a hand on her back. She seemed annoyed, but not scared, so Trunks thought to jet off. He only got a few yards when he was jerked backward by the scruff of his shirt. "Nice try, brat."

Trunks knew that on Earth 'brat' was a mean word for a kid, but his papa never sounded very nice, so Trunks found that it didn't really bother him. He dangled in the man's grip like a stray puppy, but he was more scared of Mama, who always got very mad when he disobeyed her, especially when she wanted to have an adult conversation.

She frowned at him. "Are you going to do what I say this time?"

"Yes," Trunks grumbled. Vegeta dropped him without worrying about where he would land and Trunks had to admit that he liked that about his papa. People normally never understood his strength and speed, even his family. His grandparents were always fussing over him and even his Mama would warn him repeatedly away from doing 'dangerous' things that wouldn't be dangerous for him at all! Trunks landed on his feet and crossed his arms. "But why can't I hear? You said we were just going on a trip! But this isn't just a vacation, is it, Mama?"

"It is!" Mama said, rubbing the sides of her face. "Look, kiddo. You've been bugging me forever about wanting to learn how to fight and Goku never being around enough to teach you. Now you can get all the training you want _and_ you can explore a new planet and make history, along with your genius mother, as the first Earthlings on Vegeta-sei!" She nudged his taut arms, trying to pull a smile from him, but he wouldn't have it, even though that all sounded good. "Whaddya say to that?"

Mama wasn't telling the truth, still. But Trunks knew that he wasn't going to get it out of her with his scary papa standing there. So he smiled and nodded and said he would go and do as she said. And with one warning not to break anything, he was off…thinking about what had happened.

He had beat up that big jerk before. He was so mad that someone would try to hurt his Mama that he didn't realize what he was able to do. And now, he stuttered to a stop down one of the corridors and looked at his hands. They didn't look any more powerful than they ever did. His papa definitely looked powerful. But Nappa looked powerful too… but more just big and nasty. How could he have beaten up someone so big?

Trunks didn't know…but he did know one thing: it had felt good.

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 _On a perfectly normal day, weeks after sending Nappa and Raditz on another mission, Vegeta had initiated their first real kiss, yet when Bulma pulled back after a long, heady moment, his eyes were wide and bewildered, like he hadn't meant to do that at all._

" _Vegeta?"_

 _He grunted, a grunt that she knew meant he wanted her to be quiet, after many months of dealing with his almost non-verbal behavior. This was the first time she had ever obliged him, though, usually preferring to chatter even more to raise his blood pressure. She inhaled sharply as his finger traced her lower lip, staring at it like it would suddenly change beneath his touch. They had been arguing, they had been close, it had been totally heat of passion stuff that was so cliché, she would have never leaned in and kissed him herself._

 _She had been mid-word, "Damnit, Vege—!" and the rest of it went right into his mouth as he reeled her in commandingly and kissed her. He wasn't practiced, she wondered right then if he had ever kissed anyone before or if the impulse had been entirely instinctive when he looked at her lips while they moved furiously and the temperature rose around them, a reaction to a moment. He lacked in experience but Bulma thought he more than made up for it in confidence and intensity._

 _She didn't want to catch her breath. She drifted back towards him and he swiftly backed up; she could see just the shadow of an uncertain glare on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice was still stunned soft._

" _Kissing you back," Bulma said._

" _Kissing," Vegeta said slowly, as if he had never heard the word before. "Kissing." He was rolling it around in his mouth, testing it, and Bulma had to restrain herself from scaring the daylights out of him and showing him how much_ _more_ _there was to kissing._

 _He took a slow step back into her space and she smiled a little, hopeful but gentle. "Do you want to—" she began, and her gasp was all breathy as his arm went around her like quicksilver and his exhale was hot against her face, hungry and curious. She forgot what she had been about to say…_

 _His face completely filled her sight, all granite, black and depthless. "You…" How could something so accusatory sound so seductive? He abruptly bowed his head, escaping into her neck and letting his lips burn there. Chills immediately erupted on her arms and she clenched her hands around his flexing biceps. She shivered and he groaned. "Woman, what are you doing to me?"_

 _She would have laughed if the excitement of his nearness wasn't threatening to burst from the pit of her stomach. She couldn't pretend that she hadn't entertained the thought of him…like this. But she never imagined that_ _he_ _would be the one to initiate anything. In fact, she wondered if he had ever been like this with anyone else._

 _What she did know is that he had had an increasing tendency to close in on her while they were talking, he had touched her enough that she sensed it was a compulsion that he didn't understand. His confusion pointed to the possibility that he had either never been around anybody he was attracted to, or he had only spent the time it took to murder around women. 'Woman' that awkward moniker he had given her. She guessed it was the latter, unfortunately._

 _He's a killer, she thought wildly, as they stared at each other and breathed the same air. Why am I so attracted to someone that has done_ _terrible_ _things?_

 _Suddenly, he was blasting Goku out of the air, laughing as he gripped her hair, relating to Goku the bloodthirsty history of their race, the pride he took in it…_

 _What's wrong with me?_

 _She unconsciously stiffened in his embrace and Vegeta released her, the change affecting his own demeanor. She felt the loss._

 _And then…her father walked in and whatever hung between them dropped to the floor and died. And they just stared at each other, unable to move._

" _Sweetheart, I was looking at these schematics and I think it might actually work with some minor—why hello, my boy!"_

 _Vegeta, after a long moment, tilted his head in the direction of the voice and raised an eyebrow at the old man, as always, debating whether the insult of "boy" from such a weak specimen was worth decapitation if it meant he lost an extra brain in the lab devoted to making him stronger. It was always a fleeting thought, and he blurred out of the lab, barely catching Bulma's sire saying, "it's always nice when you come for a visit!"_

 _Such strange creatures._

 _There was the woman. That infuriating, gorgeous girl that Nappa had warned him about, her blue eyes winking at him from every corner. Little, harmless scientist. What could she do to him? He logically thought there was_ _nothing_ _she could do to him…but this was also, very, very different. It was very new._

" _An enigma," Vegeta said to the high ceiling of the gravity room._

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"So…what exactly was so fascinating to you about what Trunks did today?" Bulma asked, hands planted on her hips.

"It was very similar to how Kakarot's brat behaved and I know that we can create an expansion on that spontaneous moment somehow. I'm just trying to figure out a way to tap into that power burst without it resulting in your death." Vegeta said, scratching his chin.

Bulma was speechless. When she felt able to respond to Vegeta's surprisingly scientific method-mind (she recalled that it cropped up occasionally, but he never expended energy on cultivating it when he had other people to do the heavy work for him), she was still completely lost on how he had so quickly concluded that her death would be some kind of obvious solution to Trunks' powering up further.

"Excuse me?" she finally sputtered. "You're gonna have to take me back a few steps."

"Our brat's protective instinct towards you," Vegeta said, apparently irritated that she couldn't come to her own conclusion. "His power is greatest when your life is in danger."

"I'm his mom," Bulma said. "It kind of comes with the territory. Especially since I can see that little he-man coming out in him. It's a _big_ mystery where that comes from!"

Vegeta ignored the sarcasm. "Be that as it may, if the boy can only get stronger when harm comes to you that will be rather useless to _me_. So I have to figure out if the source expands beyond that."

"And how are you going to do that, Vegeta? Start lining people up for killing? Threaten more lives? Torture him?" Bulma was starting to feel sick again at the thought of it all. "You gave me no choice but to come with you. But I've told you before, you _will_ have to kill me before I let you destroy my boy. And if I die, I'm taking a piece of you with me, guaranteed."

Rather than infuriate him, the absolute certainty in her voice was as much of a turn-on as it ever was. He supposed that was why her disrespect often went unanswered. He was too involved in the response of his own body to strangle the disrespect out of her. She once told him, eons ago, that he liked her that way…and maybe he did. She could bluster all she wanted, but _he_ had the power. If he didn't, she wouldn't be here on his ship with the boy.

"You won't be able to," Vegeta told her. "I hold everything here, including your lives."

"Which isn't going to be worth much if you kill me," she said calmly. Her bravery impressed him, but it wasn't enough.

"We'll see, Woman." He turned his back to her, pacing around the room. "I've seen enough today. We'll start slowly. Despite the fact that I can see that he's had _some_ meager training, it isn't nearly what I could hope it to be. He has the ability within him to withstand my planet's gravity, but he will have to quickly build to it. I will work with him daily to make up for those lost years and make him a warrior to be proud of…" Vegeta decided to forgive the woman for her disrespectful snort at his words, realizing her ignorance of Saiyan culture, "in the meantime, _you_ will gather everything you have on Saiyan physiology and your own knowledge of human physiology and try to pinpoint what could possibly empower a half-breed enough to so increase their potential. We need to know for sure that it is even distinctive to them."

When he looked up at her to guage her reaction, he paused at her half-smirk. "Something amuses you, Woman?"

She shook her head, but the smile didn't shake from her eyes… "No. I just…think I already know the answer. And you'd hate it."

"Tell me then," Vegeta demanded.

Bulma shook her head even more, but she still looked so damn bemused. "It's just a running theory. And if I'm right, gathering knowledge on physiology is going to be a waste of time."

Normally, Vegeta would tell her to go with her instincts when it came to this, but he wanted to be thorough here. If she went over it, at least she would know for sure that it was not their physiology. "Still do it. If it isn't our make-up, that can only be good news for me."

As he said that, her grin died, causing him to stop and wait for her to speak. "What?"

Her gaze was both soft and penetrating, but it had a knowingness to it that made him angry. "If it is what I think it is…I believe it will be even more difficult for you to overcome."

"Stop your guessing games and present me with actual facts," Vegeta snapped dismissively. "Otherwise, I am unmoved by your assertion that I am incapable of anything."

He left then in a huff, leaving her to stare at the closed door behind her.

"I don't think you're incapable," she muttered sadly. "It would almost be easier if you were."

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 _She fought with herself for three more weeks after that. Three weeks of avoiding him whenever humanly possible. Three weeks of skirting his touch and his demands, begging her father to deal with him. Three weeks until she realized that he knew exactly what she was doing._

" _Avoiding me, little one?" She was sitting out on her balcony, pathetically drinking alone. "Your ki, though miniscule, is all slovenly and weepy right now."_

" _How would you even know, if it's so miniscule?" Bulma shot back, wrapping her arms around her knees more tightly. She had been supposed to go out tonight with friends, but she never made it. So here she was, lame and overdressed and cold, with only an alien and a bottle to keep her company. Vegeta didn't answer her question, but skimmed over the railing to lounge against it, giving her a once-over that Bulma was sure he didn't really mean, but it made her hot all the same._

" _Why do you ignore me?"_

" _I didn't want things to be awkward," she said miserably. The alcohol would keep her honest, if nothing else. She was merely tipsy, but she actually_ _wanted_ _to get this out._

" _After what happened in the lab…"_

 _She chanced a look at him and saw that his face remained still, watching her explain. She swallowed, her throat dry, and continued. "I just…Vegeta, after all that I've been doing for you…after everything, you know…" she waved a restless hand, then gripped the neck of the near-empty bottle. "Do you think anything's changed?"_

 _Vegeta looked up at the sky, as if pleading for patience with her. "What do you mean by that?"_

" _Have_ _you_ _changed?" she asked bravely. She fully expected to receive no kind of answer that she wanted. But she had to ask._

 _The night sky was beautiful then. But Bulma knew that when Vegeta looked up at it, he didn't see the same thing that she did. There was so much more knowledge in his vision. Did he think of his planet? Or the planets that he destroyed? Did he think about how far away all of that was? And why he stayed?_

 _Maybe part of her attraction to him was that she rarely knew what he was thinking and when she did, it was so utterly different from her own perspective or anybody else's she had ever met. Even when she was sure that he was so completely_ _wrong_ _about a lot of it. What had made him what he was? What made him not kill her the moment he found her here? What made him like her?_

" _Things_ _have_ _changed," he said, guardedly. "My impulse to destroy you is practically nonexistent now. My self-control doesn't waver…but the impulse, it is usually there. With others." His gaze grew more demanding. "Tell me why it has suddenly faded. Is it this shitty planet?"_

" _But what about other people?" Bulma insisted. "Do you want to kill other people like you did before?" She had to know, so she pressed harder than she would have, barely worrying about whether he would run away. But he hadn't seemed to pick up on her train of thought, so he gave the question serious consideration._

" _If they annoy me," Vegeta said. He shrugged. "Why all of these inane questions? You are all alive, aren't you? Have I take anyone's life since that first day here? You know the answer to that. So stop prying. I don't want to associate with that disgusting harpy that Kakarot bound himself to, but you're doing a good impression of her."_

 _That was a ridiculous comparison if she ever heard one, but Vegeta loved to exaggerate, she had found. And besides, she was caught on what he had said before. He hadn't taken lives on Earth. That was true. He had played by her rules since he'd been here. She couldn't discount that, could she?_

 _Rationalizing, a little voice within her whispered. She shoved that away. She knew she was rationalizing, but she didn't care. She allowed herself to hope because that was what she_ _wanted_ _, damnit. She wanted him, and her friends could call her a terrible person, but she had been protecting everyone on this planet from a bunch of aliens for long enough. She wanted him, and he wanted her._

 _Couldn't it be that simple?_

 _She climbed to her feet, completely steady on them, and walked towards him. His expression was expectant, but not suspicious at all. He did want her. She knew beyond doubt._

" _What are you doing, Woman?" It wasn't even a real question, but Bulma gave him a real answer._

" _Kissing."_

A/N: Vegeta's such a romantic that having a "nonexistent impulse" to kill Bulma is practically pillow talk! Please let me know what you think…bonding on the ship. I personally can't wait until they get to Vegeta-sei. More to come.


	6. Saiyans Just Are

A/N: Ahhhh this is a long one! Wanted to get this up on Thursday, but Christmas season is wild! Too crazy to find the time! And the chapter was long. Thanks to all who reviewed: **a guy** (from when I was writing it last, it only was a couple of days…and remember, it took them over a month to get to Namek with Kami's ship! But there's a little time skip here and this is the last chapter where they are on the ship to the planet) **elsi** (Trunks is wayyyyy too smart…which is why Bulma decides that as much honesty as possible is the best policy! Lol) **RedSmileyFace** (Yay, kissing is right! more on Vegeta's family to come! Bulma's father always was a great source of amusement for me, as was her mom…haha! Its hilarious that her eyes are always closed) **elianni** (Bulma is the only woman Vegeta is interested in, to his dismay and eventual acceptance…whether that means she is his mate, well… we'll have to see!) **sora 79** (Yamcha's a good guy, isn't he? He would have happily played Daddy. Next chapter after this will be the start of life on Vegeta-sei haha we WILL get Earth POV too, but not for a while) **hisuichanxx** (so happy you think so! You're awesome and thanks for reviewing!) **wiz2mii** (Trunks is crucial to this story, that's all I'm gonna say, lol) **sukisuzukipuki** (glad to hear it! And thank you for letting me know!) **and jazzymay377** (you won't have to wait much longer to see that interaction, the next chapter or two will have it! And more insight on what the King did, that helped enough that Frieza didn't destroy the Saiyans…thanks for reviewing!). And now onto the part that people actually care about: the story.

Days and weeks passed quickly, where Vegeta focused on his task and did not bother Bulma much, wanting her to focus on her own tasks. Everything between them had sunk into a sort of professionalism that persisted for the near-month they were on the ship, both of them still chafing from the last conversation they had. He only visited the room he had assigned to her and Trunks to retrieve the boy for training. Bulma, meanwhile, was constantly hunched over her computer, notating and documenting away. She had taken his vitals, his blood, anything she could do without a usable lab. And she did the same with Trunks.

The boy's legs dangled off the bench and he unflinchingly sat as his mother filled a couple vials of his blood, obviously used to her doing such a thing. Vegeta was glad the boy didn't whine and complain, or pass out like he had seen one pitiful human do when he happened to walk past what Bulma had called a "blood drive". Humans were so disappointing. Except, perhaps, the Woman…

"Why do you have to do this again, Mama?" Trunks asked as she motioned for him to hop off the bench. Bulma smiled, having fully anticipated the question from her son. She already suspected that he had inherited her genius and both of his parents' drive for knowledge, and his insistent curiosity only confirmed that for her.

"Didn't I tell you, baby?" She brushed an affectionate hand through his hair and tried to look as light as possible. "I'm doing an experiment with you and your dad."

"What for?" Trunks ducked her hand and glanced at Vegeta. "Is this why we're _really_ here with him?"

Vegeta waited for Bulma to respond, anticipating the answer as much as his son. Clearly, she had decided to tell him at least part of the truth. He wondered why the change of mind, but he honestly didn't care whether the brat knew what they were doing or not. The reluctance had all been on her end, to _shelter_ the boy. He was hoping that her illusions about protecting Trunks were slowly fading, because he was not looking forward to the histrionics she would expose them all to once she realized that this would be impossible on his home planet.

"That's partly why, yes." Trunks tolerated the woman's caressing as she spoke, though Vegeta was sure it was mostly because he wanted information. "We want to see what will make a Saiyan stronger and what makes you different from your dad. That's all."

"That's all?"

"That's all," Bulma said. She took off her latex gloves and smiled at him. "Well, I'm all done here, so if you want to go hang out with your dad—"

"Actually, I need a word with you, Woman," Vegeta interrupted. "It's important."

Trunks shot him a waspish look. "I wanna train, Papa."

Vegeta blinked, never really getting used to hearing the boy term him with a paternal endearment like that. The first time he had said it was after about a week on the ship and Vegeta had immediately said, "In public, you are always to call me 'Father', as befits your royal blood."

"What's 'public'?" Trunks had asked, completely unaffected by what could have been perceived as coldness or rejection, just like his mother. Vegeta rolled his eyes, forgetting the boy's youth.

"Public is when you are in front of others, the low-class, the elites, anybody who is not within your circle."

"We're not with people now," Trunks pointed out, and before Vegeta could re-word his command, the boy addressed him as, "Papa" again! It was only because the boy's intelligence and tenacity impressed him that he decided to leave the subject be. As long as he never said "Papa" around others on Vegeta-sei, Vegeta figured that he could stand to be called "Papa" by the boy in private.

"Then go train, brat!" Vegeta said, pointing to the door. "Go through your forms for a while. Or do you need a nanny to watch you?"

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried, exasperated by the Saiyan's impatience. But Trunks merely bounced away, not having to be told twice.

"Bye, Mama!"

Bulma shook her head ruefully. "He always like that now, running all over the place, it was bad enough when he first started to walk…as soon as he figured it out, he never wanted me to hold him anymore."

"That is his Saiyan nature," Vegeta responded, though in his opinion, the boy accepted her coddling _more_ than enough. Something in what she had just said had given him a twinge of wonder, knowing a piece of Trunks' infancy was not something he had thought about before, even when Bulma called him to task for it. Now he knew that his son had always been restless. He looked at the boy's mother, feeling a need to move the topic of their conversation, lest he become compelled to fulfill that urge and seek more answers about his half-breed son. "And what was that, Woman? Telling the truth now with the boy?"

Bulma's eyes sharpened on the Saiyan's face. "I didn't tell him how you _forced_ us to be here, did I? That's on you. But I realized that Trunks may look back on this someday and wonder why I lied so much about what was happening. And even now, I worry that he's too smart for his own good. I don't want him to ever think that he can't trust me."

Trust, looking back, love…all these human things. Vegeta grunted, uninterested in her explanation now that he'd heard it.

"Come here, Woman" Vegeta said to Bulma, reaching out for her wrist. She inhaled sharply at his rough touch.

"What?!"

He pushed up the sleeve of her shirt, exposing her slender, white forearm. "The gravity on my planet. It will be too much for your puny human form. Our son has trained above that gravity with me, but your power level could never hope to withstand the pressure."

"Yes, I know all of this," Bulma answered, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his calloused hand prodding her skin. "I asked you before and you said that I could worry about that when we were closer to your planet. Of course, I don't _know_ how long it takes to get to your—"

"Two more standard days," Vegeta said. "And I have something that will give you the ability to survive on my planet despite your human weakness."

"What is it?" Bulma asked cautiously, trying to tug her hand away from Vegeta. She didn't want him injecting or binding her with anything before she knew what he was going to do. The situation was bad enough as it was without other complications. "If you just gave me some information, I could build something for myself without needing whatever it is—!"

"Without a lab? Heh. You don't trust me." He didn't know why he said that so derisively. She had no reason to trust him and were he in her place, he wouldn't trust him either.

"No," she chuckled nervously. "Of course not."

"You said yourself that it was in my best interest to keep you alive."

That was a fair point, so though she was still chary of doing so, she held still and let him press his fingers into her arm. "What are you doing? Ow!"

"Finding the nerve," Vegeta said, ignoring her exclamation and putting a strip of something that felt like adhesive gel, but firmer, over the part of her that twinged. Then over it he clasped a thin bracelet that felt astonishingly heavy and secured the clasp. "This will provide you a force field that will lighten the pressure of the gravity and enable you to carry on as normal." He purse his lips in a half-smirk. "It's also a very recognizable mark of a slave, as many of the planets we have conquered have a gravity similar to your mudball."

"What?" Bulma shrieked, ripping her hand from his. The bracelet did not jingle with her movement, but stayed in place. "No. I'm not wearing something like that! What will people think? I've already told you: I'm _not_ your slave, Vegeta! If you think this is how it is going to go, you're better off killing me now."

"Calm down, Woman!" Vegeta barked, rolling his eyes. "If I wanted to enslave you, believe me, you'd know. And you wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway." Looking away from her, he turned his face up in condescension. "I have my honor. You bore me a son that has the potential to be very powerful. I will not make a slave of the woman who has done that. However, my people will not necessarily feel the same way."

"And how will _they_ feel?" Bulma asked, knowing that no matter what Vegeta said, how the Saiyans would react to her would certainly play a part in her life on Vegeta-sei. Again, her mind returned to Nappa. Somehow, she expected that his behavior would be more in line with what she would see than how the prince treated her. Nappa had never minced words about how repulsive he found her relationship with his prince, and that if she hadn't been available to use as a glorified sex toy, they would have dispatched her long ago. Nappa had always completely ignored any advances she made with her inventions, allowing Vegeta to strengthen in a mostly risk-free environment (though with Vegeta, it was _never_ completely risk-free…).

Vegeta, for his part, had made some decisions just as the Woman had regarding their brat. He didn't want her for an enemy, though he had certainly earned her ill intent by forcing her to come with him. If he could be honest with her, work with her in some ways, like they had so many years ago, perhaps that bad feeling would dissipate. He frowned at how difficult she had become… he knew the difference in her. Trunks had changed things and she would not be easily won because of Earthling-manufactured feelings for him, like she had been so long ago. Trunks was now a greater priority than Vegeta was, in her mind. That thought created a brief flicker of resentment, thinking of how he might never have known about Trunks if hadn't called out for his mother—Bulma was going to let Vegeta fly away from his son without ever knowing—but he pushed it back down. He would not allow the boy to destroy any control he could hope to have over her. He would use it as he could, and when he couldn't…well, he would put her firmly on his side.

He was going to be as honest with her as Nappa probably didn't want him to be. Nappa likely still held out hope that the King would find the girl and rip out her throat once he knew what she had spawn. Vegeta knew his father's mind better than that.

"The Saiyans will likely hate you," Vegeta told her bluntly. "For as long as I can remember, mating outside of your Saiyan heritage and creating half-breeds has been considered nothing more than mixing with low blood and below the dignity of any of our race, even the low-class." She already knew, from one of his more talkative nights before Trunks that Saiyans had had a fairly consistent pattern of killing those they raped immediately afterward in order to prevent too many half-breeds from running around. Not to say that there weren't a few half-Saiyans on various planets that had been appropriated and/or enslaved, but it was much more prevalent to end the entire encounter a woman's blood. Vegeta had never cared for that sport, so focused was he on his objective. And he knew why he had stayed his hand with Bulma, but he still wasn't sure what had driven him to succumb to her sexual charms in the first place…

"But I am their prince," Vegeta said. He took her hand back, indenting right where the bracelet sat on her wrist. Letting go, he stood up and smirked. "My kind has been woefully short-sighted for centuries. You know that I do not intend to be. As my people grew accustomed to a wandering prince, so will they become accustomed to whatever I bring back."

"Whatever…" Bulma said. She stood too, wanting them to be at level when having this conversation. "I'm a person, so is Trunks. Not a prize, not a gift. Not a slave."

"You will be what I need you to be," Vegeta murmured at her assertion, his face was very close to hers. He was uncaring over her desired dignity. In his mind, she was his and he didn't need to qualify that to her. Strength was strength, and he had more of it than she did. But then…there was something else too. His hand came up almost without any forethought and he traced it down her face. "But you have your own power, Woman…and while I'm alive, no other creature will put their hand to you."

 _She was burning alive. His hands were everywhere, too fast and yet too gentle, and she couldn't think as she gasped against his mouth and he broke the clasp of her jeans in his haste. She tried to push him off and undress herself, thinking that she'd get them off faster, but he wouldn't be pushed. So she settled for snagging his shorts and pulling him closer, trying to matching him for clothes._

 _Their ragged breathing clashed against each other as they stumbled back to the bed, Vegeta snatching his hand around her naked waist to lower her with newborn finesse, all instinct in him when he had never known anything but brutality. She was sweet, feverish, longing…everything he had never known to crave. He was over her, all around her, insistently on every part of her._

" _Vegeta!" she swore, gripping the back of his head as he sank his teeth into her shoulder. "Don't—"_

" _Stop," Vegeta ground out as he lifted his face and her mouth opened again underneath his. There was a powerful mantra in his head: mine,mine,mine,mine,mine. He could nearly understand what he had only ever seen from a distance…powerful creatures losing all reason because of a female. Nearly._

 _This_ _female was beautiful and strong-willed and powerful in her own way, though he would never tell her. She was worthy. He wanted every inch of her. He wanted to hear her scream, but in a way he had never imagined before—in ecstasy, for him. They were on her bed, crying out as they moved together in furious synch. Their hands tangled in each other's hair, his other hand bruising on her hip as he wrenched all that he could from her lithe little body._

 _Nappa had warned him about this woman, that having carnal relations with her would change everything…but he had barely taken his second's word before. Now, he was taken under this pleasurable fire, unsure whether the cause was in_ _her_ _or in the act itself._

 _His release left him spent, and he collapsed sideways so he wouldn't crush her, his arms loosely enfolding her. She was in his arms when he woke, head pillowed on his chest and curled up like one of those furry little felines that tread the Earth with infuriating, knowing eyes. Quickly, he disentangled himself and left her there, sensing Nappa and Raditz making their landing just beyond the borders of the property. He rolled his eyes as he donned his shorts…what perfect timing._

 _He glanced back at Bulma as he left her room, thinking, as he perused her enticing figure, that he would very much like to do that again… perhaps, after he spoke to his underlings and trained and ate. He would find her._

 _Nappa and Raditz stood straighter as Vegeta found his way to the clearing. "Back so soon?" Vegeta asked in a bored tone. "The way you are completing these missions, Frieza would never suspect I'm not accompanying you…what?" His eyes narrowed at their expressions. "Is there something wrong? You_ _did_ _complete the mission."_

" _Y-yes!" Nappa said, closing his mouth. He handed Vegeta his scouter. "It's off. Though Frieza will probably wonder why it's off so much…"_

 _Vegeta snorted, that was a patent lie, but Nappa was always hinting that Frieza would be angered if he found out that they were lingering on this planet. Vegeta knew that Frieza could give a damn where Vegeta was unless he needed to complete an assignment. "No, he won't. He pays no attention to Saiyans unless he wants a planet destroyed. And he doesn't monitor scouters unless he's suspicious. And he has no reason to be." He glared at them. "Right?"_

" _Of course not, Your Highness," Raditz said. "It's just that…"_

" _What?!" His men were particularly dim-witted today and after the active evening he had, he didn't have patience for their sluggish responses. "Get to the point."_

" _We received word that your brother, Tarble, has not disappeared from the rosters within the Planet Trade Organization, but he has not been seen or been in communication for at least a month. There is talk…" Nappa swallowed, thinking of Vegeta's weakling younger brother. "There is talk that Frieza has finally done away with him."_

 _Vegeta didn't speak immediately, considering the implications of this. Tarble had disappeared before to much speculation, and he had always turned up eventually. Vegeta hadn't seen him since he was a baby on Vegeta-sei. His father had handed over Tarble when he was very, very young, claiming that Tarble's potential was on par with (if not, outstripped) Vegeta's. It hadn't been true, of course. It was a ploy to hide his heir from Frieza's reach when Vegeta left for other planets, seeking strength. Frieza had never read Vegeta's power level at so young an age, so he was none the wiser. The King had further appeased Frieza by saying that though Vegeta was off-planet, his heir would be at Frieza's beck-and-call to perform missions._

 _Vegeta was smart enough to hold a very distant relationship with the Cold tyrant, and Tarble was young enough that his royal blood gave him a decent power level, leaving Frieza to figure out much later that the cub Saiyan had no fighting spirit. Frankly, Vegeta was surprised that Tarble had lasted as long as he did. From what he had heard from other PTO members, Tarble had little stomach for violence and was not even adept at training, though Frieza drilled him and sent him on missions with his closer advisors who were likely as ruthless as he was. Frieza had tortured Tarble for years and their father had stood by and allowed it. Vegeta knew just how easily it could have been_ _him_ _, had he not had a younger brother to be sacrificed in his stead._

 _Seeing the true weakling that Tarble was, Frieza might have gotten tired of him...or suspicious. The tyrant's paranoia could be dangerous when directed in the wrong place. And Vegeta wasn't sure what this would mean for him, if Tarble really was dead. He hadn't known the boy, so the death itself affected him very little. It was what his death could bring about that gave Vegeta pause. He probably wasn't dead, just out of communication for Frieza's amusement, but Vegeta never forgot to map out all possibilities…_

 _Would Frieza refocus his attention on the eldest Saiyan prince after eliminating the younger? Would he think that the King had been dishonest about his respective sons? And thinking this, what would Frieza do?_

" _Sire?"_

 _Vegeta snapped back to the present. "Brother or not, there is nothing that can be done whether Tarble is dead or alive. From what we've heard, his instinct as a Saiyan was disgraceful in any case."_

" _And are we staying on this planet?" Nappa prompted. "Are you going to remain with the little scientist for longer still?" Behind him, Raditz looked almost sly. Vegeta felt his cheeks grow hot, reminded of only hours ago when he was in the throes of something he had never experienced before. His men couldn't have known what he was doing, could they?_

" _As long as she has the capability to make me stronger, this will be our base, yes."_

" _Why not just take her with us?" Raditz said idly. "It would solve the problem of having to go back and forth all the time and she can still invent."_

 _Nappa threw him a sharp look. "No one asked your opinion, third class. And that would be a_ _terrible_ _idea."_

" _Why, Nappa?" Vegeta said, getting irritated with Nappa's constant objection to the blue woman. All he did was warn Vegeta away from her, never bearing in mind that it was the Woman's mind that had increased Vegeta's strength to three times what it was already! "You yourself have reaped some of the benefits of her scientific prowess. Why do you insist upon objecting to her at every turn?!"_

" _Because if we take her along with us, what will we do with her?" Nappa replied, vehement but respectful as possible. Vegeta could tell he had put some thought into this. "Before long, you will have to kill her. She has_ _no place_ _in the galaxy, physically weak as she is. And could you even bring yourself to do it, my lord? Her…other assets being enough of a distraction to you?"_

" _She is_ _not_ _distracting me!" Vegeta roared, painfully aware of what transpired between him and Bulma that night and feeling rather exposed by the looks on Nappa and Raditz' faces._ _They know_ _, he realized._ _They can smell her on me._ _He pressed forward to save face, seeing no point in what they all knew going unacknowledged. "Where and when I take my pleasure is NONE of your concern, either of you! I am the Crown Prince of all Saiyans! Do you really think I have forgotten my goals? Do you think that I would lose all sense because of one night with a woman? I am the strongest Saiyan for centuries! Do NOT insult me this way again!"_

 _He had never heard Nappa so bold about any subject and that prickled at Vegeta…what could be so wrong about this? Nappa and Raditz took whores on almost every planet. Since Vegeta had commanded that they not harm anyone on Earth, neither of them had done so here. There was a difference in what they did and what he was doing with Bulma…but he couldn't understand why Nappa was so hard on this subject, and he wasn't going to have it._

" _I am going to remain here longer. I will_ _not_ _take Bulma with me into space," Vegeta decreed. He looked at Nappa's bowed head, but saw his lips mouth the blue woman's name and wondered why, but was too furious to ask. "Because despite your borderline insubordination, I do agree that there is no place for her there." He glanced at Raditz. "And I want to see if you can make any progress with Kakarot and his spawn."_

" _Of course, Sire." Raditz said meekly. "Kakarot_ _is_ _a Saiyan…he loves to fight. But his…what do they say?...Earthly morality, is so deep in his mind that I fear we will never be able to recruit him. But he_ _does_ _stay in close proximity, knowing that you stay with the science woman and they are good friends, he won't go far. He might still be able to be swayed."_

" _And what of his brat?" Vegeta said. "Any other demonstration of what he displayed that first day?"_

 _Raditz' expression soured, still not accepting getting bested by a young child, even if it was only a one-time thing. "No, my prince. The boy doesn't even seem to enjoy battle. He trains and fights when forced and because Kakarot enjoys it. And his mother…" Raditz cringed as he looked off into the distance, likely remembering an encounter with Kakarot's mate. "The female is impossible. I don't know how my brother lives and beds something that is constantly shrieking without killing it."_

 _Vegeta had no patience for Kakarot's marital woes. All he heard was that Raditz had made no progress. "You will continue to spar with him, as the nitwit is too ridiculous to be unfriendly with those who try to kill him, and press him on joining us. His power level is developed enough that he could be useful, if he isn't, I might just kill him and be done with it." He still wasn't sure whether he would honor his vow to Bulma when he finally left this place and never returned. His killing was mostly done on Frieza's command now…but Kakarot was a special case. As a Saiyan, he represented his people. That he had taken on so many Earthling qualities was something that Vegeta despised._

 _Believing there was nothing left to discuss, Vegeta turned on his heel to go back to Capsule Corp, intent on training and eating about eighteen of those frozen 'pizzas' (a new discovery) from that big freezer on the garage-level._

" _Is that all, my prince?" Nappa called after him. Vegeta didn't even falter in his steps. He knew they wanted to ask where he was going. He knew they thought he was returning to the Woman's bed. He didn't care to disabuse them of it. He knew what he was doing._

" _That's all."_

 _He thought he heard Nappa's voice whisper her name, scattered in the wind… "Bulma…"_

No creature will put their hand to her.

She supposed that his vow to protect her should have made her feel safe, and it did, in a way…

"And what about your hands?" she said bluntly.

He blinked, obviously not expecting a challenge of that sort. But she needed to be very clear on where they stood. Before, it was fine when they danced around each other, neither admitting what they wanted.

But now there was Trunks. And her little boy always had questions. She had already seen him watching the two of them curiously. Trunks didn't know much about fathers, only having Goku and his Bulma's father to observe, and neither of them were typical. Then again, Vegeta would never be a normal dad either…

The Saiyan bared his teeth in a scary sort of grin. "You're not asking about danger."

"I'm not? I'm not. I'm asking about sleeping arrangements." Bulma leaned back, trying to feel brave. "Clearly…we're not what we were before. You're irrationally mad at me for not telling you about Trunks, even though _you're_ the one that took off, and I'm mad at you because you forced me to take my son to another planet under duress."

"So dramatic, Woman."

"It's the truth! And now you're telling me that your people will probably try to kill us both the first chance they get and that you will have to protect us nearly all the time." She crossed her arms, unimpressed with Vegeta's square eye contact. "So tell me, Vegeta. What does this look like for us? I bet a prince like you has his own rooms in a castle or something…"

"Palace," Vegeta corrected automatically.

"So did you see us staying with you? Or did you have something else in mind?"

For someone doing her best to be forward, her question still remained very vague. What she was _really_ asking is if he had any plans to reacquaint himself with her carnally, likely afraid that he would force her. Vegeta almost smirked…would have, if he had actually _wanted_ to talk about this. But he didn't, because they were both, like she said, mad at each other and he preferred _not_ to talk about vulgar subjects that the Woman so enjoyed. He had to admit that at its surface, it was a fair question.

"You'll be staying with me," he finally said.

"We will…"

"Yes."

"And you expect that I'll be staying…in _your_ bed?" She was getting impatient with him, which amused him. Five years ago, he already would have been outright blushing at her questions. Now, his expressions were mostly blank, and she wasn't sure if it was because of their sexual history or if he had taken up with others while he was gone that he was more desensitized to sex-related conversations. And she told herself that at the latter possibility, a sliver of jealously did _not_ course through her.

"Do you _want_ to be in my bed?" Vegeta asked lowly, catching her wrist again as he drew her arms from where they were folded at her chest and causing heat to tingle where he touched her.

Flustered, she tried to pull away, unsuccessfully. "Don't act like what I want matters. You've already been obvious that it doesn't…at all."

"Do you know what matters to me, _Bulma_? My pride."

She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "That's a real surprise to me. You've never mentioned it before."

Vegeta glared and considered not saying what he was about to in favor of scaring some respect into her, then decided against it. "I'm not interested in having you unwilling. I can find satiation elsewhere." He never had… but he assumed that it wouldn't be hard to find someone else to mate with if he tried. The problem was, his desire had seemed to be exclusive to her… at least the level of desire he held for her.

"Forget I said anything," Bulma muttered once he mentioned 'satiation'. "It was a mistake to bring it up." She moved to escape towards the door, but he didn't release her wrist and continued to smirk.

"You little coward…" he pulled her closer until his black eyes were all she saw, feral and frightening, in her face. Her breathing picked up as he edged closer and closer until his mouth was ghosting breath against hers. "If you can't make up your mind, I'll make it up for you."

"I—I can make up my—" she trembled as he swallowed her last word like he had done the first time they had ever kissed. It felt like that first time again…and better, because of the past, the pain, the history. His mouth was warm and alarmingly soft, like the eerie calm before lightning strikes. He pulled back and nipped at her neck not-so-softly. She couldn't find it to do anything but hold on, unsure of his action. He pulled back very slightly and she released her breath.

"Understand me. You won't be anyone else's. Not on my planet. There are Saiyan males that will want to make you their whore because of the bracelet you wear." He tapped the corner and she was once again made cognizant of it. When she looked up again, she was dazed by the intensity in his eyes. "There are many males that will want you. There are males that will want to tear you apart… But you will have _me_ , or you will have _no one_."

"You can't just—"

"I _can_ ," Vegeta said unapologetically. "But I will not take you unwilling. I will honor you as the mother of my son." Apparently, giving Vegeta a child, while causing her a lot of grief, also had given her some protection from the Saiyan himself. At least, as long as Trunks proves to be so strong, Bulma thought to herself. "You can choose to be with me, or you can choose to be alone." He held her in place, the set of his mouth uncompromising. His eyes were so dark that she swallowed apprehensively. "And if I find out that you have ever betrayed me…there will be death that day."

Bulma paled at the look on his face, but she couldn't relinquish herself from his grip either. Everything within her rose to object…but he honestly scared the crap out of her. If she was going to raise hell at his statement, now was definitely not the time. Besides, she hadn't easily forgotten the feelings she had had for Vegeta before her left Earth. Having Trunks was a constant reminder of them and because of that, she didn't know if fighting for the ability to see other people was really worth the trouble if it was never going to happen. Especially with a Saiyan. One emotionally-constipated alien was probably enough for her.

"Why are you so possessive?" she wondered, the mildest rebellion she could think of. _He_ was the one that left. What did their past relationship even mean to him?

"We're about to be there, so you shouldn't ask so many obvious questions. Saiyans don't wonder why, Bulma," he said. "They just _are_."

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"Hey, jerkface!"

Nappa snarled over his shoulder at the young boy floating at the door. The brat unnecessarily flew around everywhere. It was annoying.

"What do you want, runt?"

Nappa had to be careful. The boy was a little snot with an overprotective streak of his equally awful mother, but Vegeta had already proven that he was willing to beat Nappa to a pulp over them. And the boy himself had also thrown some unnaturally powerful fists…and while this boiled the older Saiyan's blood to be taken to task by a four year old, he also was a little impressed. The royal bloodline was very strong, and their prince was carving out his own path from the time he was a boy himself. Under his direction, they may yet get out from underneath Frieza's Cold grip.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked, coming closer to the controls. Nappa wished the kid would leave before he tossed caution to the wind and threw him into the airlock. "When are we gonna get there?"

"Aren't you supposed to be training, brat?" Nappa said. The prince trained with his half-breed son everyday. The child was easily training above gravity, but he was also still a child and needed a lot of development that Vegeta obsessively wanted to provide. It had only been about three weeks and Nappa was already tired of it. What was Vegeta's father going to say about all of this? The King was noted for his intelligence, but sometimes the Prince went too far for Vegeta the Elder's liking. Nappa thought that this would likely be one of those times.

And Nappa was in the shitty position of having to guard that wretched bitch when Vegeta wasn't around. On pain of _death_. Nappa didn't know where in his life he had gone so wrong, to be punished like this…

"Aren't you even listening?" Trunks said, getting in Nappa's face from upside-down. Nappa wanted to swat him away like a bug. "Papa said we're close to your planet!"

"Then why are you asking _me_?" Nappa sneered. "Won't he be looking for you if your scrawny little ass isn't in the Gravity Room?"

Trunks shrugged. "No. He's with Mama. He had to talk to her and he said I could go train."

"Then why don't you do that?"

"I _did_ ," Trunks whined impatiently. "And then I got bored. But Mama and him were still talking about boring stuff like 'beds', so I wanted to see the control room again." The boy circled Nappa like an excitable puppy. "You should let me try!"

"No!" Nappa yelled. He couldn't believe that he was stuck with this unrestrained little cub while Vegeta talked about _beds_ with his little Earthling science-whore. "You touch anything, and you lose a limb, brat! I don't care _who_ your father is!"

"Fine," Trunks huffed. There was a note of silence and Nappa prayed to whatever was out there that the brat would take the hint and wander somewhere else, but then he heard him shift. "You wanna spar with me?"

"No."

"When are we gonna get there?"

"Two days. If you ask another question, I'm putting you in the airlock."

"I'll put _you_ in the airlock instead," the boy shot back. He crossed his arms in a way that reminded Nappa _far too much_ of Prince Vegeta and stared out the window. "What's it like?"

" _What_ , brat?"

"Your planet, jerkface. Is everybody mean like you?"

"Most everybody," Nappa said conversationally. "If you aren't strong, you die."

"I am strong!" The boy pumped his childish little fist. Nappa rolled his eyes.

"Can't say the same for the harridan that bore you, though…" He couldn't help but want to needle the brat a bit. Kid was just lucky Nappa couldn't do worse to him.

"Mama will be fine," Trunks snapped. Even though he didn't no what half of those words meant, he sensed Nappa was talking about his mother. "I'm gonna protect her and so will my papa! And so will you, because you have to!"

Nappa sighed as he clicked the ship into autopilot. He didn't need the little terror to remind him of that. He looked right behind him, at the boy's ridiculous hair and eyes the shade of his mother's, a blue that you'd never see on Vegeta-sei. And Nappa knew…the boy was going to either put up or shut up. And as a Saiyan, he would have to help himself, no help from any corner, with the added burden of his mother's weakness. It would be a good learning experience for him, Nappa thought with no small measure of glee.

"You know, boy…I might want to rip you in half sometimes, but even I can admit that what happens next is going to be interesting."

A/N: Soooooo long for this chapter… Planet Vegeta coming up! Please let me know what you think! I appreciate it!


	7. Your Son

A/N: Thank you **Guest, elsi, sora 79, a guy1013, Sixseedseternalbond,** and **TeeLee123** for reviewing! Really busy holiday, but I finally got to crank this out. I hope you enjoy our first chapter on Vegeta-sei!

"Trunks…" Bulma said for the seventeenth time as the boy hopped around Nappa, asking him how he was going to land the ship. Nappa was already twitching with annoyance. "Please get in your seat." She was pretty sure that Trunks had heard her and was just choosing to ignore her because he wanted to satisfy that curious mind of his.

"Boy!" Vegeta barked. "Do as your mother says or I will rip off your legs. See how well you can walk then!"

Bulma was about…80 percent sure that Vegeta's threat was idle, but much to her shock, Trunks readily obeyed his father and strapped himself in with a brief look of alarm. Vegeta backing her up was also a surprise, as he had scoffed when she initially tried to encourage Trunks to sit in his seat.

"He's a Saiyan, Woman. He doesn't need a restrictive device to keep him safe like your fragile race."

But then Bulma was pretty sure that Trunks' exuberance was annoying Vegeta, and if he had a seat belt and sat like a good little boy, he wouldn't be ricocheting off the walls. Trunks pouted as he sat, but made no more argument as they broke into Vegeta-sei's red horizon.

"Woahhhhhh!" Trunks cried as they were enveloped in a crimson haze. "It's all red, Mama!"

"I see that," Bulma said, also looking a bit turned by the harsh coloring. "Is it always like this?"

"Yes," Vegeta said. He was watching her indolently, which was a better activity than watching his son fidget around. "You wear it well."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Well, I always look beautiful…but thanks, that's a real weight off my shoulders. And _of course_ your planet is all red! So fitting."

"Are you insulting my planet?"

"Why would I do that? I just said it was _fitting_."

For the last few days, there was such a bite in her voice that he was growing tired of her attitude. Her flare of temper had begun when he told her how things were going to be and he wondered how long this defiance would last.

It was best not to bring her around his father until it faded. He didn't want a _dead_ Woman, as trying as she was… Turning away from mother and son, he went to Nappa, who was preparing to land.

"Nappa, bring us into the landing bay and then direct the men to run full maintenance on the ship but do not touch the pods. Under any circumstances. I don't want anyone fiddling with them after what happened last time." Any annoyance faded from his face after that, as he gave Nappa a very serious look. "And then I want you to attend my father on my behalf."

"My prince!"

"Quiet!" Vegeta snapped, knowing that the exclamation would draw the Woman's attention. "My father will have to wait until I have an audience with him to understand everything. And I need to get Bulma and my son in place where they cannot cause any trouble and no one can cause trouble for them. I do not trust anyone else with the task, and you only have yourself to thank for that." Vegeta's eyes flashed at his second, reminding him of his attack on the Earthling woman. Nappa's mouth thinned. If the prince blamed him for not seeing his father immediately, either Saiyan royal could take it out on him, which never boded well. Just another thing he had the wretched bitch to thank for!

"I would prefer it if I am to explain this privately to the King," Vegeta continued. "I want no officials—no _generals_ standing in when I get there. I'm sure you can at least arrange that."

"Of course, Your Highness," Nappa gave a small bow. "I will let the King know your wishes."

"And impress upon him that the matter is _personal_." The truth was, Vegeta really didn't think that matter was all that personal. If the half-blood were anybody else's son, it wouldn't have been. Vegeta didn't think it changed the way he thought about it, but it _did_ change the way he approached it. The Saiyan Elite were never known for their open-mindedness and surely that hadn't changed. His new mission was strictly need-to-know. He didn't want _any_ hiccups, otherwise he would have to go the whole way back to Earth to retrieve Kakarot's brat, who had less of a taste for fighting than his own son. In no way was that the more palatable option.

Bulma didn't hold her tongue like Vegeta would have wished, as he commanded her and Trunks off the ship and around the back of the bay. He briefly wished he hadn't checked to see if her bracelet was in place and let the planet's gravity crush her mouthy little skull. "Not that it's not great to get away from Nappa, but why are you sneaking around like this? Aren't you their _prince_?"

He glowered at her sarcastic edge. "Hush, Woman. We are not on Earth anymore, so the amount of helpful advice you could give about customs has now dwindled to nothing."

"You wouldn't be hiding us, would you, maestro?" she said smartly as she trotted along next to him with the additional weight of her bags, including her lab equipment. Anything that couldn't survive the dense environment would have to be replaced in some form from the Saiyan labs (that is, from the slaves that occupied the Saiyan laboratory…Saiyans hadn't had a care for science in a long time).

Vegeta didn't have the faintest idea what a 'maestro' was, but he was too alert for distraction to care. "If you want to live, you'll shut up and follow me."

Trunks, for once, hadn't made a peep. Instead, his eyes roamed everything that lay before them, absorbing all of this newness. Bulma's eyes softened at his reaction. Vegeta rolled his eyes, but was secretly pleased with the boy. It would be different to teach someone the ways of a Saiyan, especially his own son, who seemed eager to learn in every aspect. The redness of the sky also offset the tragedy that was his offspring's hair, making it burn red in a way Saiyan's would probably admire. Vegeta noticed that the same light didn't reflect off Bulma's unmistakable blue locks as effectively. But that didn't matter as much to Vegeta. The Woman was always to be an outsider, an alien…luckily, she was exotic enough to be an object of desire rather than something to be discarded.

As a future King, Vegeta had to be aware of all different perspectives—the common warrior, the Elite, every Saiyan whose blood ran hot for battle and pride. He had to perceive Bulma and Trunks as a Saiyan stranger, something he hadn't done been able to do when he considered his history with the Woman and his blood ties with the boy. Touching ground on his own planet had sealed this reality more than it had before.

There were less traveled areas in the palace, and one of them was the wing belonging to the King and, when he had been on-planet, the Prince. Right before Vegeta had taken flight with Bulma in her arms, he saw her struggling to keep up with her belongings in-hand. Growling about "puny little female creatures" he snatched her things out of her grasping hands.

"Hey!"

"You're pathetically weak, Woman. I don't know how you got along for so many years without me."

"Better than ever," she shot back with mild heat as he dumped one of her bags on Trunks, the boy's Saiyan reflexes kicking in as he caught it, breaking his attention from their surroundings, and Vegeta hoisted the rest onto his back before sweeping her up.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm taking you to my chambers to stay there until I have a word with my father and…explain our little project." He took to the air and in that wordless way that he and the boy had learned to communicate in the last month, Trunks followed closely behind, occasionally "oohing" and "aahing" over whatever he was seeing.

Bulma pursed her lips in thought and Vegeta wondered if she was going to broach the subject of sleeping arrangements again. But instead, she said, "what is your father going to think about all of this?"

He hadn't shared much about his father with the Woman. Truly, he didn't think much of the King; he was merely a weaker version of himself, and Vegeta had only kept him alive because it freed Vegeta from responsibility of the day-to-day ruling while he figured out a way to get out from under Frieza's oppression. On a certain and much more hidden level, he _did_ respect his father for having the good sense to allow Vegeta to do mostly as he pleased all this time, never demanding that he come back and give Vegeta reason to kill him. He had given away Tarble years before, a decision that Vegeta both approved and disapproved of.

He approved because it protected the heir to the throne when he could have been enslaved directly by the monster who owned nearly the entire galaxy. And he disapproved because Vegeta _always_ had to loathe weakness. And giving away any of your sons over to be tortured and die was a weakness that couldn't be borne. Vegeta often thought that he'd rather die than make such a pathetic choice.

As for what his father would think… Vegeta had already given that plenty of heed.

"Woah…" Trunks gasped as the enormous palace came into sight and in short order, they landed at a side palace entrance. The guards, recognizing Vegeta as part of the royal family with his unmistakable resemblance to his father, quickly stepped aside to allow them entrance, not able to conceal their shock at the young male who looked so much like their King wordlessly sneaking into the palace after a decade's disappearance. They said nothing as they stepped aside, and Vegeta hardly spared them a glance, the royal bearing proof enough of his identity, or so he believed. Little Trunks' steps stuttered as they started down a sprawling corridor and Vegeta set Bulma on her feet, but still kept hold of her arm. Though adorned in a militant fashion, the palace was huge and lavish, as would befit a warrior race. Trunks glowed with excitement as he scanned the walls. "WOAH, Papa!"

"Quiet, brat!" Vegeta grunted. "What did I say about public?"

"What do you mean, what did you say to him about the public?" Bulma asked, intrusively in Vegeta's opinion. She nearly stumbled as they moved faster than your typical Earthling pace. "Can we slow down?"

"No. I have somewhere to be." At her contrariness, he pulled her along faster. But she didn't complain, which annoyed him a little. He would never admit it to himself, but he liked it when she got mad at him for flouting her wishes. Her indifference was always infuriating to him.

"You can keep up, Mama!" Trunks said brightly as he zoomed along, going ahead and coming back again. He had room to do so, as this quarter was abandoned, besides an occasional slave on their way to some task.

"You know, you didn't answer my question," Bulma said as Trunks sped away again. "What is your father going to think of this?"

The answer that had been in his head earlier now came out of his mouth.

"That's none of your business," Vegeta said shortly. "Your only business is to do as I command and to make sure you stay alive when I'm not around to protect your flimsy human body."

Dark walls, sharp weapons, silver and brown and red…his quarters looked no different then the last time he had been there.

"Spartan much?" Bulma muttered as Trunks ran through the rooms at incredible speed, claiming one room as his own, even though there was no additional bed. Vegeta would have to order a servant to have one moved there.

"Mama, Mama, look how the water comes out in the bathroom!"

"I'll be there in a minute, Trunks!" Bulma called back, before turning to Vegeta. They stood in the Master Bedroom, a huge, mostly empty space, with a large bed in the center. She determined not to look at it, and so did he. "So I take it that you are now going to lock us in here and go see your father and tell him about your dirty little secret?"

"Fairly accurate, Woman." Vegeta smirked.

"You're such a jerk! Especially what you said before. You always have to _command_ and _control._ You have a real problem with that, you know," she fumed. They both suddenly looked down at the bed at the same time, before Bulma calmly said something that gave Vegeta pause.

"I'm not doing this because I'm scared of you, Vegeta."

"What," Vegeta said darkly, wondering if she was really going to take _this_ moment to establish some control over him. He could easily just threaten her again, but he didn't really want to live in close quarters with a pissed off woman and he had somewhere he needed to be.

"I _said_ I'm not doing this because I'm scared of you." Vegeta turned toward her and she turned to him. Her eyes glinted fiercely. "I thought about it while I was on the ship…and I want to help you kill Frieza."

"Hn." Vegeta couldn't think of anything to say, so he waited for her to go on. This was certainly not what he had expected.

"At first, I was angry with you for threatening me and taking my son."

Vegeta grunted and crossed his arms. Her voice still sounded bitter and angry, so he wondered where the big change came in.

"But I've been thinking about why you're doing this," she took a deep breath, not meeting his eyes. "It's why I fell in love with you all those years ago." He scoffed, though his heart…or was it his stomach? clenched oddly as she said those words. He knew of the Earthling concept of _love_ , which was complete nonsense in his mind, but he had never heard her say that she had felt something like that for him. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not.

"At the end of it, you are trying to rid the galaxy of a big, awful monster. And…you are being smart about it. You are trying to find a fool-proof way to fulfill your Saiyan legend and really beat the guy. It's smart, well…smarter than Goku could come up with."

"Of course it is!" He hated whenever the Woman compared him to that simpleton.

"Yeah, well that's what I like about you!" Bulma retorted, blushing but not taking anything back. "And I want to help _you_ and I want to defeat _Frieza_ because I think it's the right thing to do! Not because you threaten me!"

"Alright!" Vegeta roared. "As if I _care_ about your reasons as long as you do it!"

Bulma threw up her hands. "Ugh, whatever!"

"Why are you yelling?" Trunks poked his head out from around the corner, looking worried. His eyes were on his mother, but darted occasionally to Vegeta. "I bet everybody even in this big place could hear you."

"The corridor is empty, brat!" Vegeta glared at the boy, who shrunk back a little, but glared right back.

"Don't yell at my son," Bulma shouted, drawing his attention back to her.

It was Vegeta's turn to throw up his hands. "Whatever, coddle the brat, Woman! But you'd better not leave this room until I return, or there will be hell to pay!"

"Fine!"

Vegeta slammed the door with force, making it rattle dangerously, before storming down the hall. He made it the entire way to the throne room before he saw a palace guard who wasn't stationed anywhere. "You!" Vegeta snapped. "Go find my quarters and guard the door until I return. No one is to leave that room."

"But, my prince, I don't—"

"Figure it out!"

It was only when he was about to enter his father's presence chamber that he realized that he didn't know _what_ the argument he had with Bulma was really about. And that she had said something that was still ringing through his head:

 _I want to help you._

She had been yelling and as usual, it irritated Vegeta enough to hardly pay attention to the discussion. Saiyan hearing was sensitive and the temptation to strangle her to stop the _noise_ always took a degree of concentration. It just turned out this time that she was shouting things he would've liked to hear if she hadn't been shouting.

So maybe she wanted to help him of her own accord? Not because he threatened Trunks?

He wanted to believe that…but the Woman was intelligent if nothing else. And that intelligence heightened her ability to deceive.

No, he couldn't trust her.

The guards stepped aside as Vegeta pushed through the doors, he had barely taken a breath since he landed. And now he was going to confront his father for the first time in a standard decade and he hadn't prepared anything to say.

Luckily, the presence chamber was empty and the King's advisors were scattered. Nappa was the lone Saiyan there, standing by the far door to the King's private audience chambers.

Nappa inclined his head, when Vegeta approached. "He'll see you in there, Your Highness."

"And you told him nothing?"

Nappa nodded. "The King knows that you have to discuss something with him, but he does not know anything else."

Vegeta knew Nappa wouldn't lie to him now, so he was pleased that his second had restrained himself from speaking about Bulma or the brat. It was _his_ place to discuss this with his father. Vegeta strode through the door and Nappa waited outside, as was custom. Vegeta did not invite him in.

Dark twins with ages between them met eyes and lit with familiarity. The King stroked his beard once—the one thing that set them apart—before he shifted in his chair and spoke.

"Is this my son?"

Vegeta stood there as his father appraised him.

"Your power level has increased at a level beyond what I could imagine."

"Yes," Vegeta said smugly. Then his smirk dropped. "But all of that is for nothing unless I fulfill the legend and become powerful enough to defeat your Lord Frieza."

" _My_ Lord Frieza." The King stared at the Prince, whose expression didn't change at all, and then he huffed a laugh. "You have not changed at all, brat, have you?"

Vegeta stiffened at the form of address, but it was only a minor irritation. "I've changed a great deal, old man. You yourself said that my power level was greater than it was before."

"Greater than almost any other I've ran across." His father managed to deliver that compliment while still sounding completely unimpressed. "However, I'm not speaking of _power_."

"Well, I _am_ ," Vegeta said stubbornly. "And that is all that I will discuss with you, because nothing else is important now. Frieza even has the power to wipe us out and we sit here on our hands."

The King didn't answer what could be taken as Vegeta's accusation and leaned back in his chair. "Then what are you here for?"

"I've discovered something _very_ intriguing," Vegeta's lips curled upward. "A latent power that if we could puzzle it out, could assist us."

"And have you brought this 'latent power' with you?" The King's eyes lit with some curiosity, and possibly, hope? Vegeta had never recognized it before. "And why bring it here? You've never expressed a desire to return before and Frieza still orders you on missions."

Vegeta's brow furrowed sharply at the reminder. "Frieza has not sent me on one in months. He's sending me on less and less…and if he does, I will go. He will not suspect a thing."

Truth was, he hadn't given much thought to what would happen if Frieza sent him off-planet. His plan had mainly involved getting Bulma and Trunks to his own planet and following through with what he set out to do. But if Frieza called him back out, he would need to have certain protections in place for the boy and his mother…

"And your acquisition?" the King said. "What planet is it from?"

Vegeta snapped back to attention. "A very distant one called 'Earth'. " He prepared to break this to his father, ultimately unsure of what the response would be, but he would not explain himself any further than he felt necessary.

There was a clattering sound outside and Nappa growling, "sneaky little bitch" causing Vegeta to turn away from his conversation and rip open the door. Bulma, who somehow had gotten away before the guard reached the private royal wing, was in Nappa's restrained clutches, though he dearly looked like he wanted to squeeze her to death.

"Let her go," Vegeta snapped, before taking her other arm and pulling her toward him, ignoring her cry of pain. " _What_ did I tell you, Woman?"

"You can't just lock me in some room and expect me to sit there!" Bulma hissed. "I've never seen this planet before."

"And if I kill you, you won't see it either!"

"Give me a break…" she muttered, gasping in surprise when he gave her another warning squeeze. He was sure her delicate skin would bruise. Here she was, breaking his every command. He knew he couldn't trust her.

"Oh, _do_ bring her in here, Vegeta…" the King said beyond the door, leaving his son to freeze. "I think I might actually enjoy this."

Vegeta didn't see any point in prolonging the inevitable, so he quickly said, "and where's the brat?"

"He's playing with the bathtub and your weird water system," Bulma answered, still trying to wrench her arm away. "He'll be occupied for hours. And then your goon showed up after I was already out the door. So he isn't going anywhere."

The guard probably didn't notice her power level because it was so tiny and pathetic. He grimaced.

King Vegeta eyed Bulma up and down before looking at his son. Of course, she had no power level to speak of, so he jumped to the most logical conclusion. "A whore? That's your secret weapon?"

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, but Vegeta was reminded of her words with Nappa when they first met and gave her a yank. "She's a scientist." He needed something to impress his father with her, and he almost hated to admit it. "And some of my power is attributable to her… she invents things that can make a Saiyan's physiology more powerful without nearly killing yourself. And…"

"And?" the King raised his eyebrows. "And what?"

 _She bore me a half-breed._

"I'm the mother of his son," Bulma said, finally freeing herself. Vegeta could see her shoulders squaring, determination in her features. The King watched her with renewed fascination, examining her form again as if he might have missed something. Vegeta didn't like his visual perusal, he couldn't help it.

"Ah…" He looked between them. "A _son_ …a half-caste son then. That lived after birth."

Vegeta understood the comment. His father was wondering why Vegeta did not kill Trunks the moment he was born, as would be the norm for an Elite Saiyan who did not want progeny of mixed blood running around. There was a light of intrigue behind the King's eyes that was growing by the moment.

"Nappa!" The Saiyan Elite appeared at Vegeta's side in less than a moment. "Take the Woman back to my quarters." Nappa went to make a grab for Bulma's arm and Vegeta clamped a hand on Nappa's wrist warningly. "Remember my orders concerning her. And _don't_ let her leave the room again."

"Yes, my Prince."

Bulma actually didn't protest, probably pleased that she had gotten this far without Vegeta being too furious. But she wouldn't let Nappa touch her. "I can _walk_ without your help!" she snapped, before pushing past him, her blue curls swaying as she moved.

"A pleasure to meet you," Vegeta's father called to her, amused that she didn't take her leave of the King at all, like any subject or slave would have to do.

"Yeah, you too!"

When Bulma and Nappa had disappeared, the King looked at Vegeta, still with that intrigue, like he knew something that Vegeta didn't. "Charming little alien. Beautiful. I'm sure you enjoy her. " His eyes narrowed. "But please explain to me how she has lived this long."

"I told you. Her inventions have made me _stronger_. And my _son_." Vegeta took another step toward her father, forcing every confidence into his tone. "I discovered something in my travels—that certain half-breeds have more potential than a full-blooded Saiyan." This was near-treasonous to his planet to even utter, but Vegeta didn't care anymore. He knew the truth. "Earthling blood makes the potential particularly potent. When you see my son, you will see what I mean."

The King held up a hand, silencing him. "Something stronger than Frieza, you believe? No. You expect me to accept you here, with open arms, with a half-breed child and the little slut you bred him with? You are a _fool_ , my son. You should have _never_ returned. Do you _think_ I don't know why you came here?"

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you?! That we could come closer to reaching Frieza's power than we ever have if we just discover what this means? I came here because this is my planet! I came here because you are _weak_ , and _I_ need to free us from Frieza's clutches because you have never done anything for our people!"

The King laughed, and now it was bitter. "I've done nothing for our people? For you?" He laughed harder. "My son, you have no idea."

The King's eyes flashed past Vegeta, catching on something behind him, and that was when Vegeta sensed a young, but impressive enough power level. Elite child, at the very least. Vegeta turned and suddenly he was looking into his own image, as cruel as ever, but so much younger. Dark twins with ages between them met eyes again. And rage set itself deep in Vegeta's bones.

"What have you done?" The older prince whispered in a growl, waiting for the inevitability.

"What I've done for you, Vegeta. What I've always done." The King raised his hand and gestured at the Saiyan brat.

"Grandfather," the child inclined his head toward the Saiyan in the chair, waiting for him to explain.

"Meet an heir you can be proud of. Meet _your Saiyan son_."

A/N: So the King was did something Vegeta certainly didn't know about, didn't he? Haha… There are REASONS and an explanation for this, I assure you. As always, let me know what you think!


	8. The Way Of Things

A/N: Been too long! But it also could have been worse haha! Things got hectic. Thanks to **Trance Sephiroth, elsi, RedSmileyFace, JonnieJoke, sora7, a guy 1013, semploon, AngelGemma, maxridelover, Tia, and a few Guests** for their reviews! Sorry you all had to be so patient for the next chapter after that cliffhanger. In this chapter and later on we will see some new viewpoints to explain some of what was going on while Vegeta was out traveling the galaxy. And perhaps some new conflicts will arise from new blood. Saiyans, after all, aren't the friendliest creatures! Anyway, enjoy and I always appreciate the support from you guys!

Goku couldn't believe his ears. A familiar old friend was on the screen, looking as if she had just had three cups of coffee and been up all night with one of her projects, continually running a hand under her jaw, too jittery to decide whether to prop her head up or sit up straight. Her head periodically turned slightly to sense anything that could be behind her. He already knew that she was gone—her father had told him so. But this picture-video…it made it real. Goku clenched a hand as she watched, tensing as he saw her do. And he knew…this hadn't been her choice. She began to talk in that rapid way that she always did, but this time, Goku couldn't tune her out. He listened.

"Hey Goku, I _really_ hope that I can figure out a way to transmit this message. Because what I'm going to ask you to do is something that is going to need to be started as soon as inhumanly possible… I just," she sighed, looking behind her again compulsively. "I'm gonna make this quick for now. Vegeta came back to Earth. He was looking for Gohan originally. A Saiyan half-blood. But then…then he found out about Trunks."

Goku blinked, trying to process all of this. What would Vegeta have wanted with Gohan? Why would Vegeta have even returned to Earth? Any time Goku had ever thought about that before, he was both thrilled and worried at the prospect. Vegeta wasn't a nice guy, and neither were the Saiyans that he brought with him. But Vegeta was a great fighter, and he pushed Goku to be stronger always, a desire that Goku fed off of especially because his continual growth had him far surpassing the humans that lived on Earth. But seeing Bulma's clear misery made him feel guilty for those thoughts. He should have known that if Vegeta ever came back, there would be trouble. Not only was the Earth in danger by Vegeta's presence, so was Bulma on a deeper level. Goku had never understood Bulma and Vegeta's relationship…but he knew that when Vegeta left, Bulma hadn't been happy. And when she found out she was going to have a baby, it was even worse.

He watched the screen intently as Bulma swallowed hard, obviously choking back some feeling. "I wanted to find you before…well, but he wouldn't let me, Goku. And he took us away before I could figure something out." She waved a hand around herself vaguely. "I'm on his spaceship right now. I had to tell Trunks the truth because Vegeta just saw him and he _knew_. And because of that, he took us away and we are going back to his planet to stay with him for a while." She looked at the screen almost nervously, like she was confiding a secret. "I don't know how long he plans to keep us there."

"I wish I had been able to communicate with you sooner, but he wouldn't let me out of his sight. I'm gonna find a way out of this as soon as I can, but I wasn't sure what Vegeta would do if he had stayed on Earth. I'll make contact again when I can…" She shook her head slightly, staring off overhead in frustration. "I know you never pay attention when I tell you anything…but, tell my dad that I was cannibalizing the space pod you were sent in as a baby in the hopes that I could, well… my dad will know what I mean when I say, just work on finishing that ship!" A shadow crossed the doorway behind her and Bulma then glanced back and returned to bowing her head over the screen. "Well, this is goodbye for now, Goku. I'm trusting you with…everything there. You just trust _me_ too. Don't try to come after me, okay? You can't breathe in space and you don't have the ability to pilot a ship to get you there."

And then the transmission was over and she blinked off. Goku stared at the blankness for several minutes before saying to Dr. Briefs, "How did you get this?"

The old man smiled almost halfway cheerful, his mustache bristling. "I check your email, my boy. I don't know how she found networking to send it, but once it got here, it was easy to open. Don't underestimate that daughter of mine!"

Goku glared up at the ceiling blocking the sky, thinking of Bulma and of Trunks. They were too far away now. More importantly, he thought of _Vegeta_. "I have to go after her. I know she said not to, but Vegeta might have told her to say that…" he turned to Bulma's father with that naïve, helpless expression, Goku's natural optimism warring with his instinct to protect his friends. Dr. Briefs would know what to do. "What do you think I should do?"

The old man averted his eyes from Goku. And the Saiyan couldn't know it, but he was thinking of a small girl with vibrant hair, always taking apart his newest inventions only to put them back together. And he thought of a woman who shared cocktails with the highest rollers and scribbled formulas into her notebooks, nose splattered with engine grime.

"Well, I don't know what _you_ will do, my boy. But I intend to do as my daughter said." The doctor's mustrache ruffled impatiently as he turned away from the computer, millions of things already running through his vast mind. "I'm going to stay here and finish what my daughter started. And I'm going to help her from here in any way that I can."

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"What have you done?" Vegeta asked again, fury in every syllable. He looked at his father, unable to believe it. Everything he was going to say to the King had dissipated to nothing and narrowed to this. He knew the precedent for it… he knew that his father would have had his genetic material preserved in order to do _exactly_ this, as had been done for generations. But why now when Vegeta had yet to challenge the King for the throne? Had his father really believed that he would never return?

"I didn't expect such anger, Vegeta," his father said, though his face betrayed no such surprise. "A Saiyan in your own image. And I didn't think you would mind being relieved of the duty of training the brat yourself."

"I _don't_ ," Vegeta said, turning back to the young doppleganger. It had taken some time to get used to Trunk's similar features…this even more obvious resemblance was downright unsettling. He wondered if his father felt the same way looking at him. Probably not, as the King at least was prepared to have a child and had been a part of his life since birth. The confusion made him feel oddly calm as he spoke next. "You had no reason to do this. You already had an heir. Why?"

"Do I have an heir?" the King responded. The prince dearly wanted to put a fist through his father's face, but his murderous impulse was deadened by the boy's careful study of him. Already, Vegeta could read most of his expressions. Trunks was easier to glean (a human, and therefore emotive mix of him and Bulma), but that wasn't saying much… This boy seemed reluctantly impressed by the power level he clearly had sensed coming from Vegeta, but was trying hard to hide it. And he never looked away from the Prince of All Saiyans, signaling an intense curiosity.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Vegeta growled. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised, but indignation coursed through him at the mere suggestion that he wouldn't ever return to take his place on the throne.

"You are, for now," the King pointed out, brushing his goatee with two fingers. "You are here to run your unnamed experiments and you present me with your bastard half-breed and his little alien mother. Now _I_ present you with a worthy Saiyan son, and you respond with your usual ingratitude."

The words were not lies, yet they enraged Vegeta for some reason. His father had taken something from him in order to produce an heir that Vegeta never asked for and didn't know. And then his father expected him to be _grateful_?

Vegeta looked at the boy again, and suppressed the jolt of renewed shock that the miniature was standing there, garbed as a prince, watching the exchange between father and son with nothing more than mild, angry interest. "The brat isn't my son," Vegeta said with no small touch of resentment. He saw the boy's expression flicker at the pronouncement, but he didn't care. "You raised him, whether or not you used _my_ genetics to breed him, he is yours."

"Oh, and you _raised_ your half-breed spawn, my son?" The King chuckled, knowing that whatever the story was behind the existence of the half-Saiyan, he was well-acquainted enough with the Prince to know that he had no part in raising the boy… Elite Saiyans were not bred for family. Vegeta was as Elite a Saiyan as one could get.

Vegeta clenched his fists. "I've told you before, at least a half-breed is potentially more powerful than whatever you've drummed up here!" He swept a beefy arm over the child dismissively, causing it to glare.

The King continued to stroke his beard. "And I'm sure you will test that potential. I would… _enjoy_ seeing it for myself. But for now, our audience is at an end. You may accompany your _full-blooded_ son back to the royal quarters while I inform the generals of your return…officially. That is… if we can expect you for a while."

Rage bubbled up in Vegeta at the casual way his father spoke of his ambitions. He so dearly wanted to tell the King that he was the true power behind the Saiyan throne and therefore _he_ was going to decide when their audience was at an end, and if the King had any objection, he would be happy to silence the old man permanently and take the Kingship right there. But he didn't… because there were all too many reasons not to do that. And not the least of all was the fact that he didn't WANT to be King…

But Vegeta also knew well how this would go. His father's declaration that he would speak to the generals was in fact, merely acknowledgment that he would make the generals aware of the Prince's situation in vague terms and smooth over where needed. He would speak to his father further _in private_ , and he would have his answers later. And he could see that his father, while speaking disparagingly of Bulma and Trunks and despite his effort to seem unaffected, was intrigued by his return.

Let his father dismiss him then. For now, he would go and set the woman straight about following the rules. He wasn't sure how he was going to control his temper with her, but if he didn't, he would probably accidentally kill her. And Vegeta prided himself on his control.

"I assure you that you can expect me for a while," Vegeta said. He swept out of the room without ceremony or any due respect, not caring to see whether the miniature brat followed after him.

After a few steps, he could sense the brat flying after him, just like Trunks always seemed to do when walking would have been just as serviceable.

 _No._ Vegeta thought. _This creature is not my son. My father did this because I left and he needed a replacement heir. And I will hate them both for this forever._

The child didn't speak, but Vegeta could already sense so many things about him: arrogance, pride, hunger. _Made in his own Saiyan image._ How like his father! Plenty of pride, but no true freedom to back it up.

When they reached the royal quarters, the child continued gliding after him until Vegeta swung around to face him. "Where are you located in this wing?" he asked brusquely.

The child frowned at the dismissiveness, but didn't appear startled by Vegeta's first true words to him. The brat crossed his arms and his face hardened. "Next to the King's quarters," he answered haughtily. Vegeta bit back the urge to snap at him. It was beneath him to compete for his own importance to his father against a cub with no challenging power level compared to his own. If Vegeta so chose, he could end his father's reign without much trouble.

"Well these are MY chambers, so you can continue on alone."

The flare in the child's energy had him hesitate for the barest moment, curiosity bristling reluctantly. He wanted to test this son too. He wanted to compare him to the annoying, energetic, purple-haired son he had traveled with for the last month.

"Is it true that you have a half-breed? Like Grandfather said?"

Vegeta glowered at him. The conversation with his father had confirmed as much, any further discussion about it was utterly redundant. But he sensed that the brat merely asked to raise the subject again. For what reason, Vegeta did not know. "What is it to you, boy?"

"Is he strong? Why did you bring him here?"

Clearly, the boy hadn't fully understood what had passed between Vegeta and his father in the private audience chambers…but Vegeta also recognized the boy's tone—that bravado and fury where pain and insecurity lay deep within. Vegeta smirked. He could handle this. This boy was himself so many years ago…and he knew him already like he knew the unchanging hairs on his own head.

"Go away, brat." Vegeta made a show of turning his back on the youth. And then he hesitated, knowing that the other was marking his every move. He wanted to draw him in and entice him, and it would be so easy. "And as for whether the boy is strong…you'll soon find out."

As he entered his quarters, he entertained himself by imagining the idea of Trunks going at it with Vegeta's own young clone—no, he wasn't really a son.

…but the brat _could_ be, in fact, useful. A full-blooded Saiyan child compared to a half-blooded Saiyan child was exactly what he wanted to measure; and that was potential. He couldn't help but feel a rush of pride at the idea of his offspring pit against each other, fighting to see which would be most powerful. _That_ was a legacy he could leave behind!

Vegeta was grinning as he turned the corner, but that quickly faded at the sight of the woman sitting there on the bed…alone.

"Where's the boy?" Vegeta demanded, in order to distract himself from the familiar anger that rushed forward at the remembrance of her disobedience. They had only been on-planet for a few standard hours and she was incapable of being trustworthy—incapable of being worthy of Vegeta's good graces. He glowered at her heatedly, even as she waved her hand lazily, not worried at all about his very palpable anger.

"In a surprising display of paternal instinct, your goon Nappa is instructing Trunks on all things Saiyan living. Although, come to think of it…it's probably just an attempt to distract him for when you finally arrived to kill me for daring to disobey your dictates."

In one blink of an eye, Vegeta was directly in front of her, hand on her wrist and fiddling with the bracelet there. He smiled when he heard her swallow and freeze.

"What are you doing?"

It all happened very quickly. He unclamped the bracelet and watched as she went to her knees underneath the crushing gravity of the planet. She didn't even have time to call out in pain before she was sprawled on the floor. It wouldn't seem long to her, but he knew it was enough—to get her heart racing in terror, to give her that interminable second of helplessness before he rescued her.

Immediately after she crumpled to the carpet, he clasped the bracelet back onto her wrist and she instinctively clambered to his knees to give her enough purchase to raise herself up. Chest heaving, it didn't take her long to associate him with what just happened and just like he could expect of a human, she tried to pull back from his touch, disgusted with his brutal methods.

His arm, like so many other times during their association, was like steel around her and he brought her nose to nose with him. He could feel those quick, tiny breaths she was making, intoxicating to his ears.

"Do you understand me now?" he whispered against her cheek.

"MAMA!"

There was scuffling right in the room next to this one and a demanding "let GO!" and then Trunks was there, skidding to a stop as he saw them in what could have appeared like an embrace.

"What are you doing?" the boy said suspiciously. Vegeta had to give him credit, the boy was more discerning than most brats, who would have jumped to conclusions rather than trying to assess the situation. It was a good battle skill when done quickly enough. Vegeta released the woman as Nappa came to Trunks' side.

"I apologize, Your Highness."

Vegeta held up a hand to silence Nappa, his eyes still on Trunks. "What does it look like we were doing?"

Trunks looked to his mother for help and Vegeta did not look at her, but when Trunks' gaze returned to his, it was clear that the woman hadn't been very helpful in her expression. The purple-haired boy looked doubtfully at his father, but seemed unable to express what he thought he saw.

"She was scared," he finally said.

But Vegeta had been ready for that response. "Being scared and being very happy can sometimes feel like the same thing," Vegeta offered to the boy.

There were several beats of silence after that, as Trunks tried to decided whether or not to believe Vegeta. Then, his mother decided for him.

"It was nothing, sweetie." Bulma sounded completely normal, to her credit, and Trunks had no choice but to accept her words. "Let…Nappa show you some more things while your father and I talk."

Vegeta didn't imagine a four-year old could read implication into anything, but it certainly sounded as if Bulma was implying that she _wanted_ to be alone with Vegeta, even to his ears. Nappa sent a look over to Vegeta, clearly wondering if he had misread the situation. And since Vegeta didn't know why the woman was being so helpful, he remained stone-faced until they were gone, letting Nappa play nanny in the other room.

Once her son was out of earshot, Bulma turned to him. The shock had worn off and in its place was a careful scrutiny that made Vegeta angry. _She_ should be angry with him for doing that. But of course, she could never do what he expected of her.

"Do you understand me?" he repeated, feeling again emboldened by righteous fury. Why, of all the females in the universe, had he gotten stuck with this troublesome, yet talented one? Had he been able to cut his losses and snap her in half, he would have done so already. But she caught him off guard again by refusing to match his emotion.

"Yes, I understand what you mean," she said. He was gratified that he really could hear the thin thread of fright behind the placid veneer. "But…is this really the way you want it to be for us?"

He raised his eyebrows, not understanding her meaning. "What?"

"I've agreed to help you…and I actually _want_ to help you. I said that before and I really meant it." She was looking around the rich room, the mirrors, the dark walls, the bed…him. "But you could make me hate you if you wanted to. You could make me feel like a prisoner here. Is that what you want to do?"

Vegeta cocked his head as she spoke, unwillingly intrigued by her words. "What will make you obey?" he finally responded. He didn't feel she had some moral high-ground here, as humans so loved to think. He walked slowly around the bed back over to her, talking as he moved. "The boy raced to the room when he felt your heart jump. He's very sensitive to you."

She didn't comment on his words, it was nothing he hadn't remarked upon before. But she watched his progress towards her side with avid caution.

"And yet…" he rolled the words off of his tongue as if they were syrup, "if I were to suddenly move with the intent to kill you… he wouldn't get here in time. And he _would_ be my prisoner, Bulma. Until he was old enough to challenge and kill me himself, as is Saiyan custom." And what a glorious day that would be, some time in the _far_ future. The other boy passed into his thoughts, but he wouldn't tell her about that now. Her business was _her_ boy.

Bulma gave him a frigid smile at the future he painted and he knew that she was revolted by it.

"So…I think the question, Woman, is what do _you_ want?" He looked at her, wanting to rip her hair out, wanting to tuck it behind her ear and bite that place just underneath it. He knew without understanding that if she were to die, so many irreplaceable things would die with her. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her. But he couldn't let her know it either, beyond how he could utilize her.

"I want to go home," she said. She smiled suddenly, letting it fade just as quickly. And then she walked away from him and towards the corridor.

"I'm glad there are so many rooms in this apartment." She glanced back at him. "But you have the best room, don't you? Only the best for the Prince of All Saiyans."

She may have winked at him, but he also may have imagined it. And not for the first time, he thought, what would the night bring?

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The third living Vegeta sat on the floor of his chambers, trying to concentrate on sensing power levels, but wanting to just burst through the walls and find out what his father's half-spawn was like. He wasn't jealous. He was just angry. His grandfather had always told him that if his father returned someday, he would finish off his training with him, which was exactly what he needed because Prince Vegeta was the strongest Saiyan in the galaxy. And young Vegeta would only train with the best so that he could surpass them, and perhaps roam the galaxy for a time, just like his father did. It was the way of things.

But his father was both impressive and disappointing. He _was_ as powerful as they said. But he was also strange-minded and cruel and he had come back with aliens and had no time for his own Saiyan son. It wasn't right.

The young boy laid back on the floor as he sensed a power level in close proximity to his father, one as bright as his own…and maybe even more. Vegeta felt something bitter turn his mouth and he wondered if it was what he thought it was, but it couldn't have been. It was impossible.

 _And as for whether the boy is strong…you'll soon find out._

Young Vegeta decided that it should be treason to be stronger than your future king…unless you were to challenge the throne to the death. It was the way of things.

And Vegeta wondered how many months or years from now it would be before he would have to kill his half-brother. And he wondered how soon it would be before he'd want to kill him. Learning self-control was not an important aspect of Saiyan war, but he had heard it whispered that his father was famed for his displays of self-control and valued it above many things.

Vegeta decided that he wouldn't be able to know such a thing until he met the spawn. Besides, once his father saw that he had killed his half-breed brother, his father would realize that he didn't need a hybrid abomination to make himself stronger.

Vegeta could carry his father's legacy, just as he was supposed to.

It was the way of things.

A/N: Too many Vegetas but don't worry, there will be a nickname coming for one of them! And hopefully no more three month dry spells! There's been a lot going on lately, but I'm happy to catch up with this again. Please review and tell me what you think! Obviously, some of the drama of Vegeta having a secret clone/son has been suspended for later. Neither Bulma nor Trunks know about it yet, but they will soon!


	9. Not Father Nor Heir

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks SO much for the reviews! **Elsi** (oh, he should! He's very important to this story and vey much a foil to Trunks!) **maxridelover** (I'm glad you do, I've got a lot of plans that will be fleshing out soon… ) **sora 79** (Vegeta's clone is strong, and we'll see him pit against Trunks in many chapters to come) **lmamc** (thank you for reviewing! Here is the next one…haha) **storybook thumb** (very interesting comparison, of course, the clone is Vegeta's "son" so he is not going to be the sweet little nugget that Goten is in canon!) **Tia** (thank you! We will definitely see more of life in Vegeta-sei with Bulma and Trunks exploring. Details will come, but I have to get through all of this crazy reveal stuff first haha!) **cemploon** (thank you so much! Hope you enjoy the next installment!) **RedSmileyFace** (yes, the Saiyan cruelty is REALLY going to come to the forefront of this story…as you will see partially in this chapter but in a very pronounced way to come. Vegeta…well, he's never done the 'dad thing' before and his parenting style is going to have some ramifications going forward, but that's all I'll say about it!) **Shizzy92** (why thank you, and yes, I love the theme of brothers and that's going to be a major thrust of this story, believe me…) Anyway, more to come after this and I hope you all enjoy!

" _Bulma!" Goku was waving, dressed as a Saiyan Royal Guard just like the ones she saw that day. "Chi-Chi will be so happy because this job pays much better than turnips! And who knows? I might get to fight!" He frowned. "They just wouldn't let me keep the orange gi…"_

" _But why are you here, Goku?" Bulma cut in impatiently. She had somewhere to be, she knew the direction she had to run in, but she didn't know what the occasion was. And Goku was here…why was he here?_

 _Goku crooked his head in honest concern. "Bulma, you invited me. Don't you remember?"_

 _Bulma ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. She didn't remember that; as far as she knew, Goku was home on Earth. And she had just arrived at Vegeta-sei, so he couldn't have gotten here so quickly. He wasn't supposed to be here, that much she knew._

" _Goku, I told you not to come here," she finally said. "Ugh, why don't you ever listen?!"_

 _Confusion, a very familiar expression of Goku's, bled on to his features. "But you said you wanted me to be here to protect everybody at the ceremony!"_

" _What ceremony?!" she blasted, making him take a small step backward even though she was no physical match for him._

" _Trunks' ceremony! Sheesh…"_

 _Her son's? How could she have forgotten? Was she late?! What kind of mother would she be if she was late for the ceremony?_

" _Where is it?" she quickly asked Goku, worried that this lapse would cost her a special moment in her little boy's life. She wished she could just remember what this was about!_

 _Goku pointed to his left, down a narrow hall. "It's happening in that room. Don't worry, Bulma, I'm sure they'll wait."_

 _She was already off down the hall, waving behind her. "Thanks, Goku!"_

 _The door she wanted seemed to stretch farther and farther away, until Bulma was at a dead run trying to reach it. "Come on!" she exclaimed, still yards away. It was like progressing on a treadmill, slow and futile. But she kept going and going…what else was she to do?_

 _She panted in relief when her hand finally closed on the black knob and she pulled at it. And there they were: Trunks and Vegeta, their backs to her._

" _Am I late?" she asked. "Hey! Will you guys look at me? I just ran the whole way down the hall to get here and—!"_

 _The end of her last sentence circled the drain and disappeared when Trunks finally turned to face her, muscles tensing, and she saw… His normally blue eyes were darkened to twin lumps of coal so empty that she could see her reflection in them. Her baby. He was so tall, so strong…so cold._

" _We're busy," he said, and his voice was older, deeper. Vegeta then moved to look at her and—_

"Mama…Mama!"

Trunks wasn't shouting for her, but that didn't stop Bulma's maternal instinct from bolting her out of sleep like he had been. She sat up in bed, her head inclined toward the door as she heard small feet brush along the carpet. Trunks was walking. Trunks never walked when he could fly…unless he wasn't feeling good. Groaning internally while brushing off the disturbing dream she just had, Bulma quickly computed how many unknown bacteria they were possibly being exposed to and how likely it would be that Trunks, a half-human, could contract something before she did, given his young age. She got out of bed and came to the door with the knowledge that he would be standing on the other side of it, wanting Mama's full attention.

And he was there, looking pathetic and puppy-dog eyed at her (thankfully, with blue-blue eyes, she thought with a shudder). "I don't feel good," he whined.

Bulma nodded calmly, not one to panic over the unknown. "Where does it hurt, baby?"

Trunks didn't gesture to his stomach, like she had assumed that he might have, but instead winced miserably. "All over…"

Bulma sighed, having hoped for something a little more descriptive. She stood aside, indicating that he could come in and he wasted no time curling up in her bed. She followed him and tugged on the bedsheet he wrapped around himself. "Sweetheart, you have to let me look at you so I can tell what's wrong, okay? Sit up."

Trunks shook his head adamantly, burying it in the linen. "Don't wanna."

"Trunks," she warned him, sitting down next to the breathing ball of covers without pity. "I wasn't asking, I was telling."

"Pleeeeeeeasse, Mama…" She saw a flash of a blue eye before he burrowed back in. "Tired."

Shaking her head, but figuring that she should pick her battles, Bulma settled back in the bed, wrapping her arms around her son's lumpy form. She felt his head and he was just a little on the warm side. At least if anything serious happened, she would be right there. She briefly considered telling Vegeta, but then reasoned against it. 'Grumpy' was the understatement of the century to describe Vegeta when forcibly woken. She didn't want to deal with that at this hour.

Besides, Trunks could have just started to feel clingy after being half the night in a strange place. Perhaps the novelty of Vegetasei wore off and now he was missing home?

"If your tummy feels sick, you wake me up right away," she stipulated in the shell of her little boy's ear. No way she was getting vomited on. He nodded pitifully and everything was silent until Bulma drifted back to a dreamless sleep.

Trunks' gasp of acute pain woke her up two hours later. He was hot in her arms.

"Trunks?!" Worried, she turned him over to find him sweating and shaking. She stroked his head. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Hurts…" Trunks gritted out, turning his face away from her caressing hands in agitation. "Mama, it hurts right—" He suddenly arced his back and howled with enough pain to make Bulma's heart skip a beat.

"Trunks!"

"Woman, what in the hell is going on in here?"

Bulma ignored the booming of Vegeta's voice and tried to turn her son towards her. "Trunks, baby, what's wrong? Woah!"

Something wriggled impatiently against her and nearly succeeded in pushing her off the bed entirely. Trunks was now quietly crying, and that same something that had initially pushed against her now wrapped itself around her wrist. It was soft and furry, but nevertheless, Bulma shrieked in revulsion. "Something's on me!"

Vegeta was immediately there, ripping away bedding and prying mother and son apart. "Enough of this!"

Whatever was holding onto Bulma yanked desperately at her when Vegeta did so and Trunks whined in alarm. "Stop it!"

"What is…" Vegeta trailed off and was silent for a moment.

"What?!" Bulma cried, frustrated that she couldn't see what was going on. "What is it!"

Vegeta dropped her and went to the window, where the curtain was open enough to let in a thick shaft of moonlight. He parted it further and the looked back at Bulma and their son. With his face thrown into relief by the light, she could see that there was a slight smirk on his face. "The boy's tail has grown back."

"What?" Instinctively, Bulma tried again to wrench her hand away, but the new tail was Saiyan-strong and its muscles had a firm hold on her. Even stranger, Trunks was quiet again and his breathing was even and Bulma wondered if he had ever really woken up or if he had been in an unconscious, painful stupor when the tail made its reappearance on the boy's backside.

"H-how did it come back?" she finally managed to ask.

Vegeta walked away from the window toward the bed, turning back into shadow. "Moonlight influences our tails. Obviously, it did so with the brat's, which is good. He would have been an outcast here without it. The Oozaru is a boast of the Saiyan race."

Bulma shuddered, remembering why she had had the tail removed in the first place. The terrifying memories of young Goku turning into a giant, monstrous ape where all too clear. Something suddenly occurred to Bulma and her eyes snapped back to Vegeta, squinting in the darkness.

"You didn't have a tail when you came to Earth…neither did Radditz or Nappa."

"When you travel the galaxy, it sometimes doesn't not make practical sense to have your tail," was all that Vegeta would offer. "You may not have noticed mine because Saiyans keep them wrapped around the waist as a protection. Mine has been removed and grown back so many times that it is less painful than an amputation."

"That's completely gross," Bulma told him. She looked down at her sleeping little boy. "But he's _not_ a full Saiyan, and I don't like it. I can just put him under and he would never even—"

"If you think about it, Woman, I'll be sure to amputate one of _your_ limbs and see how you like it," Vegeta threatened her viciously. "On Vegeta-sei a tail is a way of distinguishing. It is a matter of pride! You will not go _near_ the boy's tail!"

"Trunks' new tail won't let go of _me_ ," Bulma pointed out. "Speaking of, could you please help me out here?"

Vegeta sniffed and strode towards the door, barely looking back. "It will let go of you when it pleases, Woman."

"Jerk!"

The door closed on the scene, the boy, his mother, that bed… Vegeta stood still for a moment, his back to what he had just left.

The boy had a tail now. And the tail clung to his mother like Vegeta expected a Saiyan cub's might if they had over-coddling females holding them to breast. Through that shaft of moonlight, he could see it—wrapped securely around Bulma's wrist. In the morning, would he have to pry it off?

Something niggled at Vegeta uneasily…it seemed that human attachment still had overwhelming disadvantages and he wondered whether it would begin to outweigh the advantage of keeping the Woman in line…

Human attachment… that disgusting, intangible thing. It could be crippling in the wrong circumstances, not just nauseating to witness.

Vegeta's mind whirled as he returned to his own chamber. The boy's tail had immediately curled around his mother, a gesture that signified an attachment that any Saiyan sire would work out of the babe immediately. No Saiyan needed to be clinging to its mother. It was a confusing problem for Vegeta…he had noted that the boy's protective instinct towards the woman that birthed him made him more powerful. Yet, Trunks was also _already_ very powerful for a Saiyan youth by virtue of his royal blood. And his extreme lack of training aside, the boy was quick to understand everything that he was taught, a quality that could have come from both of his parents.

What was the root of that burst of power he displayed when his mother was threatened? Could it be diagnosed and replicated?

That was the Woman's job, to give him the scientific explanations for such things. _Vegeta's_ job was to train his brat until he lacked nothing that any other Saiyan brat had, and then some!

But…perhaps some distance between the boy and his mother was called for. It was unnatural and could very well impede his progress, especially since all Vegeta needed to discover was _how_ that burst of power could come about without one specific trigger.

Of course, what the Woman didn't know wouldn't create problems for him.

And therefore, it was only another few hours later that Vegeta barged _back_ into Bulma's bedroom and pulled the boy up by his scruff and was out of the room before either of them could blink open their eyes. Vegeta observed with satisfaction that Trunks' tail was stiff with surprise at the suddenness of the movement. Its reflexes were well and normal.

When Trunks did begin to yawn and stretch himself out of slumber, he did not startle at being hauled around in this way. Vegeta had often woken him up that way while they were still on the ship and had just commenced training together.

"'s early," Trunks mumbled when Vegeta tossed him across the threshold of his own room. He bounced once and skidded towards the bedpost in a manner that might have been comical if anyone but Vegeta were watching.

"Dress yourself," Vegeta ordered. "You will be ready to go before the sun rises on the day. What you will wear is already laid out for you." Vegeta had taken it upon himself to retrieve proper garments for the boy so he would be outfitted appropriately and not like some young alien urchin. That loathsome purple hair would likely garner enough sneers without adding to it.

Trunks agreeably shuffled to his feet, going to scratch the back of his shorts when he stopped midway and craned to see behind him, suddenly alert. "Huh?"

"What, boy?" Vegeta said, even though he knew what Trunks was gaping at.

"I have a tail."

"All Saiyans have tails. You had a tail at birth," Vegeta responded, "until that mother of yours cut it off."

"Woahhhhhhhhhhh." He prodded it experimentally before scampering to a mirror to look every which way at his reflection. "I have a tail!"

"You already said that."

"Where's Mama? I hafta tell her about my tail!" He was near skidding off until Vegeta's big hand cut him short.

"The Woman already knows. And was already suggesting we'd cut it off again." Vegeta grinned at Trunk's horrified face and his wince of phantom pain at the thought of it. "I suggest you come with me today so she'll forget all about it."

Trunks frowned. "But—"

Vegeta shook his head. "This is your choice, brat. You either come train with me _now_ or you stay in this room the entire day. But stop wasting my time regardless."

"I'm coming!" It wasn't much of a choice, so Trunks disappeared back into his room to hurriedly put on his garments. "What're we gonna learn today?" he shouted through the door. Vegeta rolled his eyes, walking away without an answer.

"You have seconds, boy!"

Nappa was waiting for him in the main apartments and Vegeta went directly to him. "Well?"

"Your s—" he paused, sensing an explosion if he finished that word and quickly amending it, "I mean, the King's cloning experiment just left to the training grounds. I supposed he means to find you coming there soon."

"Yes, I'm sure he does." Vegeta's lip curled. "I saw the brat yesterday, he's anxious to get a glimpse of the half-blood son I brought with me."

"Papa! Are these tights?!" An indignant lavender head poked out of the room. "Are these for a boy or a girl?"

"Shut up and put them on!" Vegeta hissed, annoyed now that he realized the brat was unable to dress himself. He moved to take his leave of Nappa again, but before he did, he leaned in and said, "When I leave with the brat, I have something else for you to do…"

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

When Bulma woke, she was alone and cold. Trunks was gone and the night's events slowly rolled back into her consciousness. "Oh!" She went to get out of bed too quickly, and her feet didn't catch under her in time, so she tumbled to the floor with an undignified thud. "Ugh."

Her baby had sprouted back a tail in the night, Bulma thought glumly as she picked herself up. She remembered, years ago, telling the doctor to have it removed _immediately_ , thoroughly unsurprised when her newborn had an extra appendage. And the doctor, with one look at the unhappy woman who had just given birth after one of the oddest and most painful pregnancies he had ever seen, was blessedly efficient about it.

And now, here it was again…a Saiyan tail. For some reason, that brought thoughts of black, empty eyes in Trunks' sweet face older and utterly transformed. It chilled her and she didn't want to think about it.

Her thoughts were cut off when somebody banged on her bedroom door with unnecessary force, rattling the hinges…though, Bulma supposed that with Saiyan strength most things were done with unnecessary force.

"You better not have accidentally killed yourself in there," Nappa rumbled through the barrier. "I don't need the aggravation. Say something if you're fine."

What the hell was Nappa doing outside her door? And where _were_ Vegeta and Trunks?

"Fine!" Bulma called. "Though I'd be better if you would find something else to do besides wait outside my door like a _creep_!"

"Trust me, puny bitch, this is the _last_ thing I want to do with my day! But unfortunately, this is what the Prince wanted and therefore, it is what I will do." Nappa was resolute, though Bulma knew he hated few things more than her. She hissed in frustration that Vegeta put them in this situation. She remembered what he had said to Nappa on the ship: if Bulma died, so did Nappa…so now that smelly thing outside the door would probably be her permanent guard…and they would likely be restraining themselves every minute. Already, her fingers were twitching to strangle Vegeta's second.

But until she figured out how to navigate the situation, she was stuck with the buffoon.

Bulma got to her feet, tossing the blankets back on to the bed and staring at the closed door. "Where is my son?" she called through it. She suppressed the urge to ask after Vegeta, she was annoyed with him for a yet unnamed reason she didn't wish to examine. Nappa's response was slow in coming, as if he intended to leave her in suspense.

"Your half-breed is training. He didn't have the ability to sleep the day away like his mother. The Prince is going to make him a true Saiyan."

There were several seconds of soundlessness before Bulma decided that jumping through the door and attempting to murder Nappa was inadvisable at best, and she turned towards the bathroom, stewing.

Implying she was lazy and useless! Taunting her with her own son? No, this wasn't how her indeterminable sentence of torture with Vegeta's lackey was going to go. She took her sweet time in the bathroom and getting dressed, knowing that the large Saiyan would be forced to wait for her, humming to herself as she did so.

She was patient, and eventually smirked as she got the reaction she deserved: "What in Frieza's Hell are you doing in there, Blue Woman?! You can't possibly be so ugly that it takes this long to make yourself presentable!"

Huffing, Bulma sat up from her perch on the bed and marched over to the door, ripping it open. "You're one to talk! No amount of work in the morning would keep people from running and screaming! Besides, you're not in any rush! Your only job is to make sure that I stay alive, so stop whining!"

Nappa took one look at her and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're wearing that?"

Bulma looked down at herself. She was just wearing a simple midriff tank top and khakis with boots. "What's wrong with this?" Nappa had never commented on her clothing before, and she couldn't understand why he would care now.

"You're on Vegeta-sei now, Woman. You can't go prancing around, throwing your alien airs in everyone's face! Good way to get yourself raped or killed. And while nothing would give me more pleasure than to watch that, I am held to making sure that does not happen."

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "First of all, aren't you more powerful than most Saiyans? I figured you'd have to be since you follow Vegeta around all of the time. And second of all, what do you want me to do?! Walk around naked? These are the clothes I brought! And last time I checked, I didn't make a trip to the Saiyan boutique for these more 'appropriate' clothes you're talking about! Sheesh."

She had a point. If she were to wear Saiyan attire, she would have to get it from somewhere first. Nappa dearly wished that Vegeta had foreseen this and dealt with it himself. Vegeta was reaping the benefits of fucking the mouthy little alien, but Nappa was getting all the shit of the job. Glaring viciously at her, he turned and started walking away.

"I will not come with you to try on pretty dresses. We will forget about the clothes and I will take you to the lab where the technology slaves are at work." Better to watch her wander around there.

"But what about Trun—"

"We'll get to that later!" Nappa snapped. "You'll just be in the way of their training if you go now!" The woman was downright insufferable about her offspring. He thanked the gods that Saiyans were not created with such irritating, weepy attachments. "I'll show you to the labs."

Feeling as if she had little choice since she didn't know her way around, and also privately excited to see what would be at her disposal, Bulma trotted after her enormous bodyguard.

In the hours before Bulma awoke alone, Vegeta strode towards the Royal Family's private training grounds with Trunks bouncing along at his side. He had a shocking amount of energy for a boy that could barely be hauled out of bed a half-hour before. His tail was swishing back and forth with a cocky alertness that made Vegeta want to tie the thing in a knot around the brat's waist. It looked so…unseemly the way it was! He made a mental note to make the boy pay for his vulnerability later, both for the sake of battle and for the sake of etiquette.

"Papa, is this gonna be like the gravity chamber?" the boy asked. The constant gravitational pull of this world had been different at first, but Trunks had trained enough at a higher gravity on the ship that the adjustment had been quick and smooth. It then occurred to Vegeta to remember again that his planet _had_ no gravity chamber. Bulma, who invented it alongside her sire, had never been to Vegeta-sei to do so. In fact, the ship they arrived it would be their only access to such a thing until she could make one for the planet… an important part of her list of responsibilities.

"No. This will be an ordinary training ground. But don't expect me to go easy on you." He cast a long look at the boy, appraising his raiment. It was interesting to see this human-haired half-blood in princely armor, ready to train just as he himself had been twenty years ago.

And already training was another boy, looking even more like him, wearing the same princely armor.

"Your veins are popping out," Trunks pointed to Vegeta's clenched fist. "And we haven't even started fighting yet."

Vegeta smirked, relaxing his hand. "You won't be fighting _me_ , boy."

Trunks halted, surprising his father with the suddenness. The boy looked unsure, for once. "I'm not fighting with you?"

Vegeta didn't repeat himself, but turned back in the direction they were headed. "No. Move along, boy!"

There was now a glimmer of wariness in the boy. After accepting Vegeta was his father, he had trained with only him and occasionally sparred with Nappa. An unfamiliar opponent had the brat on his guard, which was just as well.

The doors parted and there stood his young self, not running through forms, not powering up…just waiting there. Vegeta knew what the brat wanted, that he had sensed them coming…and Vegeta would give him an opportunity to get it.

"Papa." Trunks had seen his opponent, and he was stock-still. His mouth fell, slowly, but none of the expected questions tumbled out. Instead, he bent his knees and took flight, landing quickly before Vegeta's clone and scrutinizing him unabashedly. Vegeta followed, his heart beating an unfamiliar rhythm as he watched.

"What is your name?" Trunks asked the boy, frowning darkly at his counterpart's appearance. He was exactly the Vegeta line in miniature. The clone straightened and his chest puffed out.

"I am Prince Vegeta, Third Living of the Name and Second Heir to Vegeta-sei." It was a title that had been recited again and again, but without the boredom that came with repetition. The brat was _proud_ of his station and blood and would never tire of telling the universe who he was. He smirked and looked over the scowl, his father's face in blue eyes and purple hair. Aliens… "Who are you?"

"I'm Trunks," the half-blood responded easily and just as haughtily, as if his name was a title as worthy as the Prince of All Saiyans. The corner of Vegeta's mouth curled upwards, almost unwillingly. Trunks cocked his head to one side, fascinated. "You look just like Papa. And you have the same name."

The other brat glared darkly, his eye twitching at Trunks' casual address of Vegeta, who wondered if the clone brat was actually jealous. "Yes, because I am the heir. We all have the same name."

"Are we brothers? I'm calling you 'Geta'," Trunks declared confidently, without waiting for an answer.

The clone looked outraged. "You will—"

Vegeta blasted a small bolt lf ki between them and they both deftly jumped away, just as he had meant them too. "Enough talk."

Twin faces turned to him, one black and one smeared with color. "Papa…"

Vegeta lifted his hand again, letting the glow of ki snap the half-blood's mouth shut. "Right now, I'm not your father, I am your Prince." He glanced dismissively at the other brat, Geta. "And you are no heir to my throne."

The boy colored at his words and gave Trunks a look of near-hatred. Good.

"But what—"

"I _said_ ," he sent the lazy blast at towards Trunks, and the boy took to the air to avoid it, his face melting into a glare as well, "no more words, brat. _Fight him_."

Geta didn't need to be told twice, he had wanted this from the beginning, and so he bounded after Trunks, sending a vicious fist towards him, prompting Trunks to squawk "hey!" in surprise. And Vegeta knew that at least on one side, this was no casual spar.

Smiling, Vegeta watched their movements very carefully. Geta's calculated, charged thrusts and Trunks' bewildered but increasingly heated movements. And he knew which one would have victory.

Bulma didn't know what she had expected of Saiyan labs, but this was not it… Nappa trailed after her as she wandered around, staring at everything in sight. There were so many machines, compounds, liquids that she didn't recognize. She paid no mind to the creatures working around her, so lost was she in her perusal. Nappa wasn't polite enough to introduce her, so the staring got more and more pointed.

Bulma was curious—Vegeta had often complained of how remedial Earth culture was, and here she partially saw that he had exaggerated. She noted at a nearby table that she had seen more effective ways of reading logarithms. She pointed it out as she met eyes with a startled orange man, "Have you ever heard of Tsiolkovsky's rocket equation?"

"N-no, miss," the man's eyes were darting to the shadow that had descended behind her. Nappa pulled her away.

"Don't talk to them," he grumbled. "They're slaves and you don't need to be distracting them."

"And what am I?" she challenged, wondering if Nappa would have a clearer answer than Vegeta seemed to give her. "I'm just trying to be nice!"

Nappa shook his head. "They will work for you as needed, and you will have this lab at your disposal, but Vegeta has not made a true slave of you." Bulma heard the unspoken 'unfortunately' that Nappa held back.

"And why do you think that is?" Bulma said, not quite done with this fishing expedition. It wouldn't matter if she asked because she already knew that where she was concerned, Vegeta paid Nappa no heed.

Nappa snorted. "It's obvious, isn't it? He thinks he owes you because you pushed out his brat, something any woman could have done for him."

Bulma recalled an earlier conversation wherein Nappa said something very different about Vegeta's attachment to her in a fit of rage, but she decided not to remind him of it. Vegeta and Trunks were, after all, probably not in earshot if she made the giant mad. Instead, she circled the middle of the laboratory, looking at every fascinating thing and impatient about getting somewhere. She needed to establish a point of contact.

"Well, they can't _all_ be slaves! Who runs this place?"

"I do, miss…" An older, straighter individual approached Bulma and Nappa slowly. "I am in the service of Vegeta-sei, but I am the chief technician in the Vegeta-sei Science Program. My name is Colloid."

Bulma held out her hand and smiled widely, for a full charming effect. "Nice to meet you, Loid! I am Bulma." The man was very tall, almost as tall as Nappa with thick gray hair and a mustache similar to her father's. It was a kindly effect that had her warming to the alien. "I'm a scientist too."

Loid (with his new nickname) smiled slightly and his gaze flicked to Nappa, knowing that while this young woman may have been a scientist, she would not have an Elite bodyguard accompanying her if she wasn't something _much_ more than that. At the same time, she was certainly no Saiyan. The whole scene was a bafflement to the chief technician. "What brings you here, Lady?" he said tentatively.

Nappa then chose to cut in. "The Prince brought her from her planet to assist him with some very private matters. She will use the lab and your crew as she pleases." He omitted all additional details because it was none of the slaves' business. And besides, he thought with chagrin, the Prince was never one that missed being a large topic of gossip, whether he wished it or not. The blue woman would be notorious before their red sun went down. Nappa jerked his head toward the door, rolling his eyes at Bulma. "Come on, you said you wanted to go to the training ground. You can socialize with this dirt when I have other things to do."

"Ugh," Bulma snarled at the Saiyan's rudeness. Nappa was clearly uncomfortable in this place and while that secretly delighted Bulma, she didn't see the point in bringing her down here if they were going to leave fifteenminutes later! But the prospect of seeing Trunks, forced her to abide by Nappa's plans. She turned and gave another dazzling smile to Colloid, wanting to start on the right foot with someone she hoped could be a colleague. "I'm sorry, but I'm sure we will get time to talk soon. I'll see ya, Loid!"

She strode after Nappa, something new clearly on her mind, and Colloid and his crew of scientists blinked after her, machines halted and at a total loss.

"See you tomorrow!" she called to the room at large, before she and her companion disappeared.

When they were gone, Colloid sighed, but you would have never heard it under the deafening buzz of whispers. And Colloid wondered what the newly-returned prodigal Prince had just brought on to the Science Program.

Trunks didn't mind getting bloody. He didn't mind being pushed to his limit, in fact, he had never considered doing anything by half, very much his parents' son. He didn't mind meeting a boy his age and getting to fight him.

But he did mind that Geta wanted to hurt him.

When their fight first started, Trunks couldn't name the strangeness of the fight—what was making it different from all of the others. But that was because he had never been truly afraid before. He had never had reason to be. Everybody he had sparred with on Earth was nice at heart. They took care of him and just wanted him to become a better fighter. Goku, Gohan, Krillin, Yamcha. They were teaching him.

His papa and Nappa were harder and meaner, but they were trying to teach him too. And Trunks appreciated the hard lessons because he wanted to be the best. But this was nothing like those times.

The boy who looked just like Papa was strong…and he wasn't fighting because he liked it, not this time. Trunks soon figured out that he was fighting because he wanted to cause Trunks pain. He smiled when he landed a painful punch and he got more furious when Trunks bit back any cries of distress or landed a hit on him. Trunks also didn't know what to do with his new tail…but the other boy had his neatly wrapped around his waist and was trying to get at Trunks' tail any time it swished towards him. This was setting Trunks off-balance, but Geta wouldn't play fair once he saw it was an obvious weakness and he kept going for it.

Trunks' brain couldn't comprehend _why_ the boy was being like this. Trunks wasn't angry; he had never even met this boy and all of the sudden he was being attacked like it was real and they weren't on a training ground, but like it was a war he had seen on television where people died. Trunks could see it in those angry, black eyes—Geta wanted Trunks to be a bloody heap on the ground.

And Vegeta was probably gonna let him do that, if Geta could.

Trunks knew better than to look down at his father. It would cost him, even his almost-five year old self instinctively knew this…distraction was bad. And Vegeta hadn't moved from his spot, watching the spar above with a thin, unmovable mouth. Geta was biting down his teeth with feral glee, closing in and trying to put Trunks on the defensive. But Trunks pushed back enthusiastically, trying to make it all in fun, like he and Gohan used to do.

But it wasn't like that, it wasn't fun and Geta wasn't Gohan, and eventually Trunks felt his arm crack under a blow.

"Owwwwww!" Trunks bellowed, clutching his arm protectively. Geta had a hungry look, closing in, lifting his arm to—

"VEGETA!"

All the motion in the room changed and gravitated towards one focal point—Trunks' shocked and angry mother.

A/N: That's all for this moment, folks! Trunks grew a tail…Bulma and Vegeta feel very differently about that, don't they? And a few other things happened too… Reviews are the best, and help me so much with the story, please and thank you!


	10. What We Tell Ourselves

A/N: I'm back! Honestly, I reworked this chapter a number of times, which is why it took so long. I've decided on an approach now that I had been waffling on...but I think this is going to be a pretty surprising move, but know that I had always intended to do this pretty soon and I found this was the most comfortable transition for me. We will be playing a LOT of fill-in-the-blanks, but it will be WORTH the ride! Thank you to **123sc** (Mommy Bulma doesn't play!), **lmamc** (haha, I bet you aren't expecting this move…but I hope you enjoy this all the same!), **sora 79** (I'm crafting Nappa to be a little more complex in his feelings, and over time you will see him develop! Geta and Trunks is a very important thread in this story!), **maxridelover** (my goal is as many fireworks as possible in surprising places, we'll see how that goes ;) ), **hisuichanxx** (thank you so much! I'll throw in a descriptor in this chapter, just for you so you can know what color his tail is lol!), and **RedSmileyFace** (ohhhh, you know whenever Bulma does anything, she doesn't do it halfway! There's going to be a lot to digest in this chapter…and a lot of mystery that will be unearthed as we go!) Enjoy!

When the door behind her didn't close, she was momentarily surprised that Vegeta had followed her here. She had just wrapped Trunks' arm as he sheepishly bowed to her ministrations, knowing that she wasn't in the mood. And the other boy…

Well, that had been startling. In fact, it took her about four seconds before she remembered how pissed off she was over the state of Trunks after a morning unsupervised with his father. This boy, Geta, had looked at her as if he had already made an unshakeable decision about how he felt about _her_ …a feeling which she tried hard to swallow down... But Vegeta. How did he feel about it?

"You have…another son," Bulma rolled the words around slowly in her mouth, unused to them. Though, by getting a good look at Vegeta now, he didn't seem any more acquainted with the thought than she did. She wanted to ask _how_ …but he looked to be about Trunks' age, maybe a little older. She didn't want him to think she was jealous. Was she jealous? Had he slept with someone else while he had been with her and how could that have been possible? Was it when he would leave for periods of time with Nappa and Radditz?

"He is a clone made from my genetic material…by my father," came Vegeta's voice as if he were reading her questioning mind. She looked up to see him still standing by the door, like a statue of an immortal…and about as stiff. "I had no knowledge of this prior to our arrival."

"Oh," was all Bulma could think to say about that. It was lame, she knew. But she also knew from experience that prying into Vegeta's past and familial relationships would only get her a cold shoulder the likes of which could cause hypothermia. And Vegeta didn't seem all that willing to offer any more information.

She frowned, as something occurred to her. "So you haven't had the chance to…" She blinked at Vegeta. "You have two sons now that you barely know."

Vegeta waved a hand sharply, coming further into the room and armor firmly in place, and oh how did Bulma want to shed it…!

"I have no interests in _sons_ or _clones_. I have no interest in raising brats," Vegeta said firmly, stalking toward her. "I've told you already why you're here. And _nothing_ has changed. You are here to help me become powerful enough to defeat Frieza. Our son is here because his blood could help achieve that end. I don't know why the other brat is here and I don't _care_ why. He is a creature of my father's."

Bulma rubbed her face with her hand, thinking of how wrong he was, but not saying a damned thing about it. She shook her head just ever so gently, and Vegeta was on her, wrapped around her wrists so he could look her in the face. "Don't do that," he warned her.

Bulma stared at him in the space of their breaths and thought that he was just…so…sad. How could he know Trunks and even believe such a thing? How long would he fight the inevitable? But he wouldn't stand for pity. Not Vegeta. And as always, the childlike confusion just beneath his bravado was endearing to her. She was drawn to him by impulse and design.

So she leaned in closer as he kept her trapped, until she was just blue, blue eyes and soft lips and pert nose to his vision. And then those eyes fluttered closed and she tested her lips against his, just a sweet touch, and then firmer. Her lashes danced against his cheeks as she drew back and looked at him.

And then they sunk right into it all.

It wasn't going to be for long, she told herself. And that's what she would tell Trunks. In the meantime…there was this infuriating man, and the ever-changing game they played.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"So you call that woman 'mother'."

There words were resounding in the empty hall that Trunks was attempting to sneak around, out of Nappa's sight. It would only be another few moments before the Saiyan giant would realize that Trunks' request for a history book to discover if there had been any _other_ Saiyans in history with lavender tails was really just a ruse to get out from under his watchful eye.

Trunks swiveled his head to the lone figure standing further down, arms regally at his sides but watching Trunks with a strange expression on his face, like he was imagining Trunks being lit on fire or something and enjoying the picture it presented…

And he didn't like the way that Geta said "mother". And then something occurred to him.

"Yes," Trunks answered back, his voice carrying. He took a few steps back the way he came, trying to look as dangerous as possible, even with his arm in a sling. It twinged, but he ignored it. "You don't have a mother, do you, Geta?"

The little flame-headed boy bristled and then stiffened at the question. "No," he practically spat. "What use would I have for a mother?! That's not how we do things anymore. _You_ are different." His nose crinkled in disgust at Trunks, who felt his own irritation rise in response.

"Well, who cares what you think?" Trunks declared hotly. "Where I come from, everyone has mothers! And if you weren't such a _jerk_ , I'd probably feel bad for you, because my mama is the best person here or anywhere else and you don't even have one!"

Growling, Geta threw a punch that Trunks swiftly blocked, though at the cost of jolting his arm, causing him to grit his teeth and yell. But Geta stopped suddenly, his breathing loud and all around. And then his lips curled up into an ugly smirk. "You don't need to feel bad for _me_. I'm not the one who will need to worry."

"Worry about what?" Trunks shot back, and though he wouldn't admit it, the look on Geta's face was making him feel like they were still fighting. He refused to let this guy think he was afraid of anything!

"Well… I read her power level." Geta pretended to look thoughtful. "She'd be easy to kill."

Trunks clenched his fists. "What?!" Was Geta saying that he wanted to hurt his mom? Because Trunks would _never_ let that happen. And Geta was slow to respond, still looking calm and pensive, with a quiet that made Trunks want to pummel him.

"I don't have to be afraid of anything happening to my mother, do I?"

Trunks didn't respond, because that was true. So he stared at Geta and his horrible smile until Geta turned around and walked away.

"Next time, fight fair!" Trunks yelled at his brother's back. He had tried to be nice before, but he could see now that Geta didn't want to be friends. He thought Geta was stupid if he didn't even want to be nice to his own family… Trunks adjusted the sling's strap higher on his shoulder, and then almost ran right into someone.

"Oh, sorry!" he said automatically, before stepping back and blinking. "Hey…I almost thought you were my papa. But you have a beard!"

King Vegeta frowned at the boy, looking him over very carefully. The colors may not have been right...but that face was definitely and unmistakably a Vegeta. Still, he nearly let his grandson go totally unacknowledged, especially after seeing that offensive, floppy head of hair that brat had. But he felt as if he needed to impart some grandfatherly wisdom to the child, misbegotten spawn or not.

"There's no such thing as fighting fair, brat. It's victory or defeat. How soon you learn that determines how long you live."

And then he continued past Trunks as if he were nothing more than a painting on the wall, completely unworthy of his time.

And Trunks suddenly didn't feel like exploring anymore. So he waited until Nappa caught on and found him, wishing that maybe it were somebody else. Or that _he_ was somewhere else.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Bulma remembered all too clearly the things she told her son and the things that she told herself.

Not long after that she would wonder what she had done. _What did I do? What did I do?_

But how do you stop a butterfly's wings from fluttering? And how then do you stop that motion from rippling out into the world and creating a hurricane?

There were so many different places where everything changed, yet Bulma couldn't think of a proper time or moment when it shouldn't have.

It wasn't the day that Vegeta landed on Earth again and discovered that he had a son. What could she have done about that? Physically and quite alone, Vegeta was unstoppable to her.

It wasn't the day she slept with Vegeta for the first time, or the second time, or…well all of those times up until he left and they conceived a child. Because Trunks was not something she would ever be willing to give up.

It wasn't a particular day or moment that could be selected and changed, so Bulma never toyed around with the idea of building a time machine after that.

Instead, she researched. And she made herself invaluable as a scientist on Vegeta-sei to boot. And months quickly became years.

Every spare moment was dedicated to the pursuit of a way out…because the second day of her life in Vegeta-sei, she scraped her fingers against Vegeta's back and he bit back a moan against her throat and she knew he was never going to let her go.

Vividly, she would always recall that day he discovered he had another son and she kissed him and they tangled together in her bed for the first time in years. But mostly, she remembered before that; the way the boy looked at her with such coldness that her arms erupted in chills. Geta…was all that Trunks wasn't, and yet, they were both so _Saiyan_.

And she was filled with panic because she didn't know how to hold on to her boy on Vegeta-sei when it was nothing she knew and everything Vegeta did.

That day she went screaming into their training and met his other son. That night, she crashed her lips against his in some furious competition and told herself that she was conceding _nothing_ to him. And Vegeta was all too happy to oblige.

As their son slept, gripped his arms as he loomed over her and sucked desperately on her neck, thrusting furiously and yet gentle enough not to break her. Their breathing rose together and sweat bloomed on her forehead as he melded himself closer and closer until she looked up and all she could see was his black eyes, his powerful arms caging her in. And as he neared his climax with their faces pressed together and their pants chasing each other's lips, she realized that he had just been waiting for her capitulation.

But it was just another feeling in a long list of what she knew he felt before _he_ did.

And his power was familiar and consuming and _him_. Uniquely him in a way that built a terrible awareness in her that though she hadn't known it, nothing was going to come close. There wasn't another in the universe who had the ability to make her feel this way. And they had a child together.

They had a _child_ together. And that was one inerasable fact.

Vegeta worked to protect her in ways that she was sure he didn't realize and also in ways that he did. Nappa was forever at her back, to her eternal annoyance. And Vegeta automatically worked to keep her out of his father's way. And though the King of All Saiyans' eyes would often glitter with amusement at her, the way he looked at her had such an underlying hatred that her legs went numb and she couldn't move. So she let Vegeta shield her. And she got her revenge by continuing to invite the Crown Prince to her bed at night. There were worse things she could do.

"I'm telling myself that I can protect you this way," she said to her little boy as his eyes fluttered closed below lavender bangs and his breathing evened out to a deep song, tail puffed out and reaching for her. "But that's not all it is…"

She would have her little indulgences. Vegeta almost made her a slave in his goal to get stronger.

She would make a slave of him as well.

FIVE YEARS LATER

Trunks, bloodied and torn, limped past the slaves of the Tech Department, waving to the odd brave soul who looked up, offering a crooked smile. Most were used enough to his presence or shy enough of his status as Son of the Crown Prince to not pay him much mind. He was not looking for them anyway, as they huddled around this project and that.

"Loid!" Trunks called enthusiastically once he had sights on the co-head of the Department. He raised an arm, wincing. The wizened alien inclined his head in greeting, lip curling in mingled concern and disgust at the sight of the half-Saiyan boy. Blood sport was genetic, it seemed…and Loid would never understand the fascination. He 'tsked' as Trunks came closer.

"Your mother is going to have a fit when she sees you," Loid mumbled distastefully.

"Yeah, she's gonna really freak," he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "There was nothing to clean up with…"

The slave smiled, unable to suppress one at this muscular, pre-teen monster before him being worried at the wrath of his tiny human mother. Loid nodded to the closed door just beyond them and sighed. "She's there, working on her private projects… I doubt she'll mind if you disturb her."

"Thank you." Despite the ruthless and oftentimes boorish demeanor of the overlords of this planet, Trunks had been thoroughly schooled in royal manners from his father and the importance of using them with _everyone_ , no matter how supposedly lowly, from his mother. Therefore, he was a polite boy.

Bulma's voice was quieter than usual and her headset was on as she squinted towards a small screen. And because of those tell-tale signs, Trunks knew immediately who was on the other end.

"No…not exactly like that, this portion, you'll have to replicate with something else, but it should be easy enough because it's really just a capacitor…" His mother was waving some weird-looking thing in the air. "If it's not on the _inside_ , I'm pretty sure it will fry."

Trunks cleared his throat, not wanting to appear as if he was eavesdropping, and his mother brightened even before she looked up, blue eyes twinkling even with the bruising lack of sleep that ringed them. "I'd recognized that throat-clearing anywhere! Come say 'hi' to Grandpa, sweetie!" When she did look up, the smile melted right off her face as she took in his bloodied state. "Trunks! What the hell?! Were all of the regen tanks full? You're a mess!"

"Mooommmm," Trunks groaned. "I don't need the regen tank! It wasn't even that serious."

"Were you fighting with Geta?" Bulma asked pointedly. "Is _he_ in the tank?"

"When does _he_ ever need the tank? Though he uses it all the time…" Trunks mumbled, traces of bitterness in his voice. He did his best to walk without a trace of unevenness, smiling painfully so she wouldn't force him to the infirmary like she had so many times before. And in his mind, his father sneered.

"I'm fine, Mom and I'd love to talk to Grandpa."

He moved quickly, knowing very well to cut Bulma off before she got started on her lecture and he bent down and grinned at the lavender bowl cut so like his own. "Hey, Gramps!"

"Hello, Trunks! Woah, you're quite a sight, my boy… What does the other guy look like?"

"Worse than me," Trunks said smugly, knowing it wasn't a real question. "Whatcha doing over there?"

"Same thing I'm doing most of the time, working on something new with your mother. Say, you keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't overwork herself, okay?"

"I'll try," Trunks said, knowing that that was not a promise he could make. His mother was notorious for staying at the lab at all hours, making Nappa stand around until his father came downstairs and threw her over his shoulder to get her out while she hissed at him like an angry cat.

"Actually Dad…" Bulma pressed her fingers into Trunks' shoulder, keeping him in place. "I need Trunks in on this too…you mind helping me explain what we're doing?"

Trunks took a deep breath and paused. His mother had recently been telling him things…important things about Dragonballs and travelling at light-speed to get to some planet called "Namek". But he was _never_ to repeat those things unless he needed to…and Trunks sometimes thought that was code for 'if anything happens to me' when Bulma started in about it. And _that_ was something that made Trunks' blood run cold.

His mother…was not the most popular alien on the planet. The king _hated_ his father's relationship with his mother. Most of the Elite were disgusted by it, essentially anyone who had not benefitted from Bulma's inventions (and some who did) could not just get over the fact that she was an alien living in the palace under very few constraints, not enslaved…at least to the naked eye.

They had been on Vegeta-sei for a long time, so long that Trunks could barely remember his home planet or his mother's old friends, like Goku and Krillin and Yamcha, except the rare moments when they came through a screen. But in all that time, the Saiyans had really not become much more welcoming than they had been in the first place, from the half-Saiyan's scant memory. Trunks had spent a couple of years trying to control his fury over those prejudices after a few incidences where his mother almost fell to harm, once he grew old enough to understand things a little better.

But his mom was also one of the most well-protected beings on the planet, if you took into account himself. And Vegeta.

 _Vegeta_ , _my father, Prince of All Saiyans_ … Trunks knew that his father didn't like to seem weak, and he had lived on Vegeta-sei long enough to know what Saiyans thought were weaknesses, and an attachment to a puny human woman was definitely a weakness. His father would definitely protect Bulma, but the darker part of Trunks' young mind often worried about whether that protection had a limit. And _where_ that limit lay…

But that was okay, because Trunks was good enough to protect Bulma from nearly everything and everyone, barring one or two people…

"Baby, I hope you're listening closely."

Trunks shook his head, refocusing on the conversation at hand. He didn't have the science-nerd brain that his mother had, but he was smart enough that he could at least understand _what_ she was doing, if not _how_ she did it.

And then there was the _why_ she did it…

That was the hardest part for Trunks to understand.

Even when he had been just a baby, Trunks was no fool. He had always known that his mother hadn't come here with him by choice. Not really. But over time, he thought…well, he had thought that she had grown used to it. And that she had wanted to stay with his father. He was pretty sure his father didn't really know what his mother was doing down here, that he didn't know that things that Trunks did about her mother's near-successful attempts at replicating long-term space travel on Earth and her knowledge about the Dragonballs and where they were and what they could do…

There were many things Bulma kept from Vegeta. And because of that, Trunks kept those things from him too.

Trunks was only ten, but from the beginning, he had known where his loyalty lay. And it was firmly with the woman who had _always_ been there, who had held him even when he pretended not to want to be held, and who had fixed him up when he was mangled from a fight with his brother, and who had lied to him so that he wouldn't be scared when they had to leave Earth.

He didn't know what he felt for his father. He had thought he did, once… but then his father once told him that love didn't exist and that _nobody_ on Vegeta-sei loved anybody else, least of all the Prince of All Saiyans. And if he were to be a true Saiyan, he needed to stop _clinging_ to his mother like a cub and dropped these ridiculous notions.

"It exists for _us_ ," his mother told him that night when he was laying in bed, burdened by the confusion of that conversation. She sounded so sure that he believed her. At least, he knew he loved _her_.

But did he love someone who _didn't_ believe in it? And who claimed he didn't love Trunks or anyone else?

He didn't know.

And he didn't understand his parents' relationship either, but that wasn't for him to handle. As long as Vegeta didn't hurt her, he was totally _fine_ with not understanding them.

Trunks tried to tune back in to his grandfather's tech-speak, but the sentiment echoed inside him like a pebble down a well.

 _As long as nobody hurt her…_

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"The Western Regiments have been grounded for long enough this past month," the King said, folding his hands in front of him. "With Frieza putting all North and East out for raids, we need to look to what we are sourcing out for our _own_ people. Taking more slaves instead of wiping out entire populations. There are many areas in which we can improve our intake."

"Culinary skills, for instance," Vegeta said with something approaching sarcasm, though he wasn't really being sarcastic. Most planets he had wiped out or raided had better food than the paltry means they had here. Earth especially…not that he was going to tip off his father about that.

Sweet words curled around his ear, promising her forever presence if he only did a _few_ little things…one of those being that her planet remain unmolested. That was of no consequence to _him_.

The King barely glanced askance at the Prince before giving a slight nod. "A less…pressing matter, but true all the same."

There were scattered whispers around the table, but Vegeta's ears perked at one of the more scathing murmurs, not so much angered as surprised at the unmitigated gall. The Prince pressed his open palms to the table, a suffocating power thrumming so dangerously to the surface that the room went silent. The progression of power level that Vegeta had experience while on his planet was second to none, alarming…almost legendary.

"What was that you said, Lord Cumber?"

This Elite was new to the table, his father perished while on one of Frieza's missions not long ago. Even younger than Vegeta, he was the youngest sitting General Elite… and the most brash, though he tried to mask it for the sake of his status.

If Cumber had not been a Saiyan, he would have shrunk under the heat of Vegeta's glower, if not the power of his ki (power the likes of which had never been seen before on Vegeta-sei except in that of legends). But as he _was_ a Saiyan, he leaned forward slightly before inclining his head as a show deferment. "I said, my Prince, that as you are the most…well-traveled Saiyan on-planet, perhaps you could tell us where you find all of those…delicacies you are pondering at the moment."

Vegeta held back a sneer at the common jab, one he was all too used to, and one driven by envy. The Prince could do as he wished because he had the power level to back it up. Not even his father could upbraid his activities, try as he might. Mustering the largest show of arrogance that he could, Vegeta leaned back in his chair. "I could make every suggestion in the galaxy, Cumber…but I doubt one such as you could appreciate what I've seen. And what I've tasted."

The King, having led advisory meetings for the last fifty years, quickly interjected before the conversation could devolve. "My son could point out a few planets Frieza may not have deemed important enough for takeover that could suit our needs. General Cauli will prepare the Western Regiments once we have further suggestion. Vegeta, see to it that you meet with them and make some suggestions. Otherwise, there are no new missives from the PTO, so we are adjourned."

No one missed the hurried dismissal, and yet no one but Prince Vegeta would dare challenge King Vegeta…and the prince was not interested in objecting, knowing the ensuing battle would have been bloodless, and therefore, pointless. So once the room was cleared, the King stared impassively at his son, seated across the long table.

"I've never seen you so eager to trade verbal barbs."

"The additional peons that now sit on the council seem to bring it out in me," Vegeta replied, crossing his arms. "Say what you wish to say before I get bored and leave." He knew his father wished to speak to him privately and occasionally, he humored the man, just to unsettle him if nothing else.

"Lord Frieza will be due for a visit within the year," his father said.

Despite already knowing this, hearing it said aloud still caused Vegeta to tense, as always a mention of Frieza would. The Ice abomination reminded him of failure, though he had yet to face the monster in combat.

"And it's been five years since you've come back…with your stowaway alien cargo."

"And?" Vegeta knew very well why _he_ was upset about the impending visit…he just didn't understand why his father seemed so concerned. The Saiyan King had been dealing delicately with Frieza for years, in ways that Vegeta himself couldn't have. That was the _whole_ point of keeping his father alive! So why didn't he seem so ill-at-ease now? He couldn't have been worried about Vegeta. He already made arrangements in case Vegeta were to perish…in the form of that arrogant little clone.

"I wondered what you intend to do about it."

"What I intend to do about _what_?" Vegeta sneered. He didn't understand where this was supposed to be leading, but he already knew that he didn't like it.

"I mean…do you intend to stay on-planet? Do you intend to hide them away?" the King drawled, now more easily since he always felt more comfortable playing mind games with his more powerful son than speaking frankly. It was an exercise in the younger Vegeta's self-control to let him finish his little speeches. "Do you think once Lord Frieza sees how much the little alien woman means to you that he will let you keep her?"

Ah, it was this again… Vegeta looked away, smirking darkly. It always came back to this: how much his father despised his consorting with Bulma, a weak specimen by his estimation, with a knack for science that would make her an excellent slave.

" _I know what your father wants," Bulma breathed sharply against his ear as his snapped the button of her pants with too much force and pulled her against him. Her slight, pale arms wrapped around his head and she purred at the press of his desire against her. "He would rip me to shreds if he could."_

" _What did I tell you?" Vegeta growled against her lips, hauling her up around his waist. "I don't want to_ talk _about my father right now."_

" _If he had his way, I'd be in the basement all the time with Loid." She laughed, sounding careless, but there was also something taut in her voice. Vegeta dropped her legs and let her sink to the ground, tired of this conversation and angry that she was ignoring his orders. He put distance between them, willing the mood to die and staring at the opposite wall. He waited for her to say something more, because she always did._

 _Meanwhile, the sound of their heavy breath rattled against the walls. She played quite a game with him, he knew. But he also…he couldn't stop playing it either. And as long as they were working_ with _each other, he could rationalize continuing to do so. But if he ever found out that she betrayed him? Oh, would that be a dark day…_

 _After a moment, the blue woman came up behind him and draped herself against his back in that way she had…the one that set his teeth on edge. "I'm already yours," she pointed out softly. "You don't need me to be a slave of Vegeta-sei."_

 _He kept her in suspense for a beat before turning and lifting her in one smooth movement, kissing her roughly. "You only ever need to be worried about where_ I _want you," his voice was possessive and gruff, checking whatever it was that he felt when he was with her._

"Thinking of her again?" As usual, his father interrupted as if he _knew_.

"Jealous?" Vegeta sneered. "Consult your harem." Nothing made Vegeta more furious than when his father correctly guessed where his thoughts wandered. When he had put so much time and distance between them, he had expected less ineffectual results. The only fortunate thing was that the King did not realize that things were not all well where Bulma was concerned.

Not that he would think about that now. It was…unimportant.

"This little blue alien promised you strength, didn't she?" continued his father, undeterred. "And what have you to show for it?"

Vegeta glowered at his father, that power thrumming back to life and making the air pulse. "I could beat the life out of any Saiyan on this planet," he swore, knowing it to be true and even more. And his father nodded, in complete agreement.

"Yes, you've become extremely strong. Some would say impossibly so." Of course, the words were devoid of the praise that such a compliment would usually mean from one's own father. The King inclined his head. "I wonder though, if it's enough to fell Frieza…and how you could even know such a thing when you have never seen Frieza's final forms. And what about the little whelp you got on your woman? Do remember how long ago it was that you told me his _half-blood_ was the key to Frieza's defeat? And after five years, _what is there to show for it_?"

Vegeta's hands were clenched so hard that he thought they might bleed. It would not do for his father to insult his legacy, supposed taint or not. "That boy you so disparage could tear you to shreds!" Indeed, Trunks was uncommonly strong for a Saiyan youth, a fact Vegeta fully attributed to his own blood at this point, and _not_ the woman's. Though, she still flatly disagreed, which was extremely annoyed and led to several problems.

But he wasn't going to think about that.

"So could your full-blooded son," the King reminded him readily. "In fact, what was the result of their last bout? Oh—don't tell me—the conditions must be right for him to claim victory. I've heard it before."

"Is that what you told Frieza," Vegeta snapped back darkly, now on his feet, "before you handed Tarble over to him?"

A horrible quiet fell over the table. This was the first time Vegeta had brought it up in years, but it had forever been a stain in his mind against his father. Who was he to speak about sons? When he had _given_ one of his own to that Saiyan-despising monster?!

Finally, the King was the one that stood, and Vegeta felt horrible sort of victory in the action. Verbal battles with his father were always harder-won. But the odd glint in his father's eye gave him pause. "Don't," he pronounced, "speak of things that you know nothing about."

The King turned away to leave, as expected, but Vegeta wondered what exactly had been in his eyes. "I'll leave you to your little experiments, and your amusing little alien woman, as always. But don't forget what Frieza may do if he _discovers_ those little experiments… _and_ your little alien woman."

His father didn't need to elaborate. Frieza was well-known for playing with his food before he ate it.

Vegeta stared down the long table, frowning as he tumbled into the dark tunnel of thoughts. Bulma, Trunks…the clone brat. His father. His wretched people.

If he died, he knew…none of them would live either. But even more galling was the realization that Frieza would live if he died.

A/N: Vegeta has his priorities, doesn't he? So we just did a little time jump that is going to bring us right where I need to be. History, characters' relationships and development is all going to be very important now, so bear with me! We'll also see where everybody else is-Nappa, Goku, Geta, etc.

And, please review, guys! Questions? Thoughts? Good? No? Let me know!


	11. The Reason For Trunks

A/N: Hi everybody! Appreciate everyone who has stuck around for this wait, I was moving states, so this got put aside and I'm glad to get back to it! Thank you to **ElsaBriefs, lmamc, Kio, maxridelover** (unfortunately for Trunks, the boy is headed for Future Trunks level angst…buckle up lol), **Kitty in the Box** (all of your questions will be answered soon, and thank you!), **Anilime Ahsim,** and **Angel Bells.**

THREE YEARS AGO

" _Spar again? We've been doing this for months. Why can't we ever do anything interesting? Aren't you a scientist?!" Geta sneered at Bulma as she stood before them with a small computer pad._

" _You'll do what she says, brat, or I'll rip your tongue out of your throat," Vegeta commanded. He glared at Trunks. "And that goes for you, too."_

 _The brothers glanced at each other, feeling awkward at their joint opinion on this particular subject even in the face of the animosity that had been growing between them. Both boys were not fond of being treated as test subjects, but they had no choice under Vegeta's stern word. And as if they were both reminded of this at the same time, they quickly looked away and straightened. Trunks' mother had stuck a few receptors onto his skin, but it wouldn't affect his mobility in any way. They never put anything on Geta, even though he fought the best most of the time…but he didn't care because he didn't want to even be a part of this stupid experiment._

" _Now do you finally think you can handle them, Woman?" Vegeta sounded almost aggrieved and Bulma rolled her eyes._

" _I don't know how I'd live without you, my prince," Bulma said sweetly. Nappa scoffed beside her, and it was Vegeta's turn to roll his eyes._

" _Hn…shut up. And bring me something useful for once. I will be with the council."_

" _Of course, Your Highness."_

" _Nappa, don't let her break anything!"_

 _Nappa rushed to assure Vegeta that all was well under his eyes and Bulma turned back to the boys._

" _So yeah, I know it's nothing special, but basically yes, I just want you two to fight until I tell you to stop, okay?"_

" _What's the point?" Trunks asked curiously. Bulma smiled at him, a smile she saved for only him._

" _Mostly trying out the new equipment, but there's more to it. When I know, I'll tell you. Alright, once I get past the line, you go ahead."_

 _She turned and headed off for the corner of the room and Geta wasted no time, hooking his fist at Trunks' jaw._

" _Hey, we were sup—"_

 _It didn't take Trunks long to decide not to bother with explanations and fight back. Nappa took the opportunity to instruct each of them in turn, while hulking at Bulma's side. They went like that for five minutes and weren't experienced enough to do anything really clever. It was in danger of becoming boring, in fact…_

 _Geta flew at Trunks some more, putting all of his force into every hit and trying to remember everything Nappa yelled at them from a few yards away. He ploughed into Trunks, causing him to fall several feet and Trunks made use of the motion to try and kick out Geta's feet. He was almost successful, but Geta was having the better day._

" _Alright boys, that's enough," Bulma said. Trunks obeyed, eight-years old and still unwilling to tangle with his mother, but Nappa had to grab Geta by the collar to get him to desist._

" _You don't fight a Saiyan that has no intention of fighting back," Nappa instructed with some irritation. He watched as Bulma slowly started unstrapping Trunks from the apparatus she was using to track his power levels and additional physiological information. It was all part of her experimentation._

 _Geta was also watching the interaction between mother and son with something dark in his eyes. Nappa frowned. "He's not a Saiyan," Geta said back, coldly. "If he were, he'd be a challenge."_

" _You weren't saying that last week when I—"_

" _Trunks."_

 _Bulma was ignoring the other boy studiously, and under her look, Trunks was coaxed into doing the same. But Nappa had been having his fill of disrespectful youths, so he felt the need to put the brat in his place. "Prince Vegeta says he is Saiyan, brat. And what the Prince says is what will be."_

" _But everyone knows the truth," Geta spat._

" _Quiet, brat," Nappa warned._

" _You know the customs, Nappa. Real Saiyans would never allow alien women to have offspring. They break their necks and—"_

" _Woah!" Nappa growled and he whipped around. Suddenly, Bulma was aware that Trunks had let out an angry yell, but he was gone. No, he was across the room, pummeling Geta viciously. Nappa was moving towards them. "Oy, brat! Enough!"_

 _Bulma watched in jaw-dropping horror as her son methodically beat the other child, and she wasn't sure whether Geta wasn't moving to fight back because he was shocked or because he was unable._

" _For all the is bloody…" Nappa strode over with purpose, intending to break it up, but when he laid a hand on Trunks, he was flattened with a sound that reverberated on the walls. And seeing Nappa on the floor finally snapped Bulma out of her numb shock._

" _T-Trunks! Stop!"_

 _With a deep rumble, Trunks set black eyes on his mother with a gaze so cruel and fierce that her heart skipped a beat. It was only a moment, but she could never forget it. His little muscled chest heaved up and down and up and down as he powered down and looked back at his unconscious half-brother._

" _I…I didn't mean—he said that… I was…"_

" _It's alright," Bulma said quickly, even though it wasn't… she didn't know what to do, just knew that she wanted to take her boy in her arms and comfort him. Nappa was staggering to his feet and Trunks then looked at him, wide-eyed._

" _Trunks," Bulma said softly, taking two steps towards him and fully intending to pull him into her arms._

" _Woman, no."_

 _Vegeta was behind her, eyes fixed on Trunks and she searched for any hint of anger as she stared at him. "How did you…"_

" _I sensed someone's power level ratcheting up and I came here. Stay back from him. What happened, boy?"_

 _Trunks was white. "I was mad," he said shakily._

" _And you did this?" Vegeta looked from Geta to Nappa._

" _Yes." There was resignation in that tone, as if Trunks expected to be punished. Instead, Vegeta turned away from Trunks and rested his attention on Bulma. "Did you get a reading on it?"_

" _Um…" She must have dropped the pad when Trunks tackled Geta. "Maybe, I don't know." She finally saw it on the floor, thankfully. She looked back at Trunks, who hadn't moved and was still looking shaken up. Geta still wasn't conscious and one instinct kicked in. "Nappa, Geta needs a regen tank. I don't need a reading to tell me that…"_

 _Nappa of course, didn't move until Vegeta bolstered her order with an impatient and curt nod of his head. Bulma then went for the pad, bringing it back to where Vegeta stood so that he could read it over her shoulder. "Hold on, it should be...here."_

 _She didn't even need to look for the moment Trunks attacked Geta, the enormous spike stood out so it couldn't be missed. Bulma's eyes roved over the readings in fascination. His physiological makeup had become something almost more Saiyan than Saiyan._

" _Incredible," Bulma murmured, feeling Vegeta's consoling heat come nearer, looking at the data over her shoulder intently._

" _What do you make of this, Woman?"_

" _It's what I predicted…but I don't know how—" Bulma felt partially mystified. She had her hunches, but she couldn't say for sure. She was definitely excited to plug this in and get something more in-depth._

" _You know how. He got angry," Vegeta said._

" _Trunks, sweetie…are you okay?" Bulma asked carefully. Trunks blinked at her voice and he seemed to realize for the first time that Geta and Nappa were gone._

" _He's fine, Woman," Vegeta sneered. "In fact, if his anger is the key, then you had better stop coddling the brat and find out how to make him hold on to that power for an actual period of time. And when you're done with that, you can help me defeat Frieza."_

 _With that, Vegeta turned on his heel and moved to leave without a word to either of them. Bulma frowned, "Are you going back to your council meeting?" she called to him. She couldn't imagine that he would since they may have just made progress with this._

" _No," was all he said before he disappeared._

 _There was a pronounced distance between her and Vegeta that was uncomfortable, considering she slept next to him every night. Sometimes, she thought that it was noticeable to only themselves, especially since so many on this planet were appalled by her presence. They all saw what they wanted to see._

" _Trunks, I need to take off that stuff. Come here, baby."_

 _Trunks did come to her then, only glancing at the entrance where Vegeta had disappeared for a moment. She knelt in front of him and removed everything, seeing that his hands were shaking a little. She grabbed them, willing them to stop in hers._

" _Trunks…"_

" _I'm sorry, Mom." He looked afraid, but not of her._

" _Did you black out?" Bulma asked calmly, rooting for information and maybe a reason behind this. Trunks shook his head._

" _I remember everything."_

" _Did you…did you_ want _to hurt Geta?"_

" _No! I—" Trunks sighed, looking miserably at her. "I was just—Geta was talking about how you should have been killed and I just was thinking that I have to protect you. I was mad but it's because I'm scared that something is going to happen and I won't be—"_

 _Bulma pulled him firmly to her chest, shaking her head. "Trunks. Please don't worry about me, okay? Nothing is going to happen to me."_

 _He pushed away from her, strong enough to do it now that he had to be careful not to hurt her. The resolve in his eyes made him look twenty years old. "No. I_ need _to make sure. You can't promise that, Mom. Not here."_

 _He was right, not here. And whether it was Trunks' responsibility to take care of her or not, it was something that he bore in his heart and he would not be dissuaded from it. Vegeta would protect her as long as it suited Vegeta to do so, but Trunks was right. And because of that, Bulma needed to get them out of this mess._

What Bulma never told her son was that she was pretty sure that she knew the secret of the Legendary Saiyan Warrior. And that day a few years ago was what ingrained the idea in her mind. She was _pretty_ sure, because it was something that she would never dare test to its fullest.

Why?

It was easy to say she wouldn't—well, easy for the mother, but not easy for the scientist in her.

The scientist was pleading to test the theory, to extrapolate on those implications, to help the Saiyans achieve what was considered impossible by their modern history, before anything was recorded except by word-of-mouth. She had done her job, poured over enough of those records to know.

Those stories were not of a vicious, bloodthirsty race bent upon the destruction of anything unlike them. It was the story of a brilliantly powerful race with the ability to grow in power at an unlimited rate. If Frieza feared the Saiyans at all, it was over that fact. Their Legendary Warrior was not an exterminator, but a hero. Unlike Trunks, Saiyans didn't _need_ to protect anything beyond themselves. The weak were routed out and it was considered better for it.

Saiyans were no heroes. Not anymore, at least.

"Usually I'm not the one waiting up for you at night," Bulma said, entering her latest addition of the gravity room: terrain adaption. Vegeta sat meditating in a sweltering, black-sand desert, the gravity disabled and the bots powered off.

"So you thought you'd entice me to murder you here?" Vegeta asked without cracking an eye open. "Leave, Woman and go to bed."

"But it's so much fun sweating it out here with you!" Bulma said sarcastically as she plopped down beside him, purposely jostling the space around him. "Why sleep in a huge, comfortable bed when you can spend all night getting sand in unmentionable places?"

"Disgusting woman," he grumbled.

"What are you doing?" Bulma asked softly before Vegeta could order her out again. He was too calm, especially for being pulled out of meditation. The fact that he hadn't jumped up at her deliberate goading was a warning sign. And she hoped that this wouldn't be the same argument they always had…

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said. It was a colorless question, one not intended to provoke any interest in her.

"I mean _why_ are you down here doing this when you could be in bed? You get up early…you don't usually stay up too late."

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Vegeta said with a dangerous quiet that set her teeth on edge. Something _was_ up. "I'm a prince, and there are many things I deal with that do not concern you."

And that confirmed for her that whatever was going on…it _did_ concern her, in some way. She knew he wouldn't be acting like this otherwise. And worse yet, he wasn't going to tell her what it was.

But it had been like this from the beginning, she reflected. Secret upon secret, every day a battle where you either won or lost…until there was no fun in just playing. Had they ever had fun doing just that?

And because there were things that she could not tell him, also were there things that she couldn't stop him from keeping from her. And this is how it would be until one of them broke, and neither of them would…

"Just don't wake me up when you get back then," Bulma said halfheartedly before brushing to her feet. If he were surprised at her acquiescence, she didn't know because she didn't look back.

She knew if Vegeta were a hero, if her strong, violent, beautiful prince were a hero…she might even be brave enough to test out her theory. But a hero, he wasn't.

Goku was. And she feared Trunks was too. Well—maybe _feared_ was the wrong word…she was proud of her son, prouder than she ever thought she could be about anything. He definitely was the best of her _and_ Vegeta.

And he could become a Super Saiyan because of it. Too bad she would never know. Exploiting Trunks' love was something she would not do. She had no objectivity and she didn't care. Her boy would not suffer what it may take, not for the whole universe.

Maybe it was selfish, but Bulma had tried making an unselfish choice and look where it got her…

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The Woman, as his father called her, was gone rather quickly. Geta had heard them talking nonsense—well, the woman talked. His father just sat there and probably willed himself not to disembowel her out of sheer annoyance.

Trunks' mother was an odd, fearless, dainty alien that had an astounding amount of influence over the Crown Prince of Vegeta-sei. At least, that was what was said and Geta had never been given reason to think otherwise. He did know, from vague things that Trunks had said before, that she was likely providing sexual favors to him even after she'd had a child with him. It was a disgusting thing that only the low-class tended to do: relationships just between two people, procreating in such a way.

Geta shouldn't have cared, but he hated it. He hated everything about the Woman and he hated Trunks too. His grandfather always said that his father would lose interest in them, that the Woman would disappoint Vegeta long enough that he wouldn't care what happened to her, that Vegeta would take pride in his fully Saiyan son and not that pathetic floppy-haired half-breed.

But it had been such a long time that Geta now doubted that it would _ever_ happen. Even when Vegeta was mad at them, he never got rid of them…and Geta was beginning to think that his grandfather was right: Prince Vegeta shouldn't be the King.

It was treason for anyone but the King to say that, but Geta never said anything when his grandfather voiced that opinion. He kept it in his head. And it wasn't like he was able to do anything about it…Vegeta was far stronger than any other being on the planet. And the only way to take the crown was a challenge to the death.

"Brat! I can hear you breathing from over here. Pathetic," Vegeta called to him quite suddenly. Geta cursed himself for not expecting Vegeta to notice him…he shouldn't have dared come so close. "Unless you want me to beat you to a pulp, you'll get out of here and leave me in peace and learn not to spy on your superiors."

Geta came out of the shadows and glared at his father. "I wasn't spying. The Woman came in and I was just waiting until she was gone."

"Hn." Vegeta finally opened his eyes. "Where's Trunks? Did you two decide on a late-night spar?"

"He isn't here," Geta said sullenly. "He's too weak for me now and it would be better for me to spar you."

Geta was trained enough that he was able to trace the movement, but still had no time to react to the hammer blow of his father's fist stealing his breath straight out of his abdomen. He crumpled to the ground, stunned, as his father crossed his arms. "Why would I bother sparring someone so useless? At least the boy has his moments, few and far between though they are…" Geta raised his head hatefully towards the prince, who was frowning as though he was wondering why Geta was still on the ground. "There's nothing for me to learn from you."

And with that, his father left him in the gravity room with some hateful thing burning in his veins.

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No matter how Vegeta tried to empty his mind of the King's words, they echoed back with their persistent truth. The time of reckoning was near and he didn't want to bide his time…he was expecting to have come into the Legendary Warrior by now. But no, he had been waiting for years and nothing!

And that wasn't the only problem. If Frieza came to Vegeta-sei and sensed his power level, Vegeta wondered what the Lord of the Cold Empire would do… he had always had a particular disdain for Saiyans. The Cold Army had whispered it was because the Ice people had an enormous, but stagnant power level…so it despised those races with greater potential. Of course, no power had yet come close to Frieza…but that didn't stop the tyrant from being paranoid.

Had Vegeta been a lesser being, he would have been sweating by now.

And the Woman…

" _What did you find?"_

 _She was tapping on keys, her features thrown in relief from the darkness and the red light emanating from the screen. "Everything. But nothing that would be of interest to you, unfortunately. Trunks told me how he felt when he attacked Geta."_

" _I_ told _you already, I don't want to hear about the boy's feelings. I want you to tell me the reason he has the ability to magnify his ability like that!"_

" _I know that's what you want, Vegeta," Bulma said testily, looking up at him with those clear pools of eyes, glinting with annoyance. "But I'm afraid that the results of my research is not moving in the direction you'd like it to go. I can't help that."_

" _You've provided me no explanation!" he snapped. "Telling me that he can compound his strength because he has FEELINGS is not a reason at all!"_

" _Only because you barely believe it exists, and if you do, as nothing more than a weakness," Bulma countered uncompromisingly. She stood from her chair and walked to him. "I'm_ trying _to help you. But you are fighting me to the bitter end and I don't know what you expect."_

" _You have all the technology in the universe," Vegeta griped. "Everything at those pale little fingertips and you say to me that it tells you_ nothing _. And you don't understand why that is hard to believe."_

" _I'm saying that I have studied Trunks' physiology, along with yours, even what I know of Geta's makeup…and there is NOTHING that will point to a physical reason that he powers up so rapidly. Nothing. There's a lot that we don't know about half-Saiyans, but nothing that we do know explains the shift, and it_ should _, Vegeta! This isn't about body temperature, or muscle mass, or brain activity. It's something that can't be pinned down by a computer or by running a thousand tests!"_

" _Then what is the point of you?" Vegeta sneered. "Don't you remember anything you promised, Woman?"_

" _Oh, I remember," Bulma cried. "I remember you forcing me to come here with you and saying that I would help you. And why? Because maybe I miss my friends and family, maybe I hate the way Saiyans look at me and the way your father would happily murder me just to see me gone. I want to leave! I want you to let me_ go _! And yes, maybe I don't want Frieza hanging over the universe…but I can't do anything for you if you won't listen to me."_

 _Her hands, those useless little hands, touched his cheeks and he realized that she had started to weep. He hated that, he could smell her tears, seeing them start to fall, but he was frozen in place by her hands. "You never needed a scientist, Vegeta. You thought you did…but that isn't what you got, really."_

 _She dropped his face and took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself and looking quite crushable. He didn't want to crush her, though. "Trunks…I'm beginning to think he didn't need me. I'm something he thinks he has to protect." She looked at him. "Did you hear me? Trunks says that he_ needs _to protect me. He would—he would kill…if it meant protecting me."_

 _It was on the tip of Vegeta's tongue to say "I can protect you" but he didn't. And she stared at him with those big, glinting eyes with no anger in them any more. She was just sad. She was always sad._

" _We created Trunks…it was an accident. But I know the reason we did, now. I get it. But you don't…you don't."_

 _Her kiss was gentle, the gentlest kiss she had ever given him, wanting and expecting nothing. And his stomach turned so tightly that he grabbed her and made it something more._

The Woman couldn't help him. That was Vegeta's secret. No one knew that he had resigned himself to this, not even she did. Bulma made endless inventions for him and he did indeed get stronger. But it would never be strong enough.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to let her go. He couldn't bring himself to free her or dispose of her though he knew it would please his father. And he could certainly never let go of Trunks…not with whatever it was that the boy _did_ possess.

And that was what drove him to the boy's room, ripping him out of his bed. It was what drove him back to the Gravity Chamber to begin again.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've realized (a hard realization, since I've always preferred slower-moving arcs) that slowing this story down is probably not going to happen. Lots of plot coming your way. Leave a review and tell me what you think!


	12. He Is A Protector

A/N: Alright, I warned you that this story gets dark and we are headed right into territory! Tough it out to the end, okay? Hang in there and trust me. And thank you to **a guy 1013, lmamc** (no, he doesn't, but he grew in canon…so expect him to grow here too!), **maxridelover** (hopefully I surprise you here, we'll see…), **anime pryncess** (you have great instincts, but TRUST ME and it will all be fine, I promise), **Kitty in the Box** (yes, yes, yes, and yes…and good instincts!), **Guest** (gracias!), **and Kgvision** (thank you so much, I appreciate the feedback and hope you enjoy this!).

Trunks knew better than to argue when his father pulled him out of bed, no matter what time it was or how cheerful he _may_ have seemed at the time (sometimes, he was just frowning on the inside because he wasn't going to bother to move his facial muscles on the outside…at least, that was Trunks' theory). So when he felt a hand grab him up by the collar and lift him like a lioness would her cub, he shook himself awake _before_ he landed near his closet.

"Dress to spar," Vegeta said shortly. "I'll expect you inside the Gravity Chambers in two minutes."

"Aw, man…" Trunks said good-naturedly, yawning. He knew it would slightly annoy Vegeta for him to even complain as a joke, but instead of lecturing the boy on respect and work ethic, Vegeta left without a word, leaving Trunks only slightly surprised. So it was going to be one of _those_ nights…

Well, that was fine. Trunks almost considered waking up his mother…almost. Because whenever she was aware of the after-midnight training Vegeta sometimes dragged him off to, she put as much of a stop to it as she could. But then… Trunks decided it wasn't worth it. Bulma had gone to bed at a halfway-normal hour tonight, and Trunks knew that she needed her rest. Her projects for his father _and_ all of her other side-projects (the ones she made sure Trunks knew about 'just in case') meant that even Trunks noticed how little she slept. And he wasn't supposed to notice things like that.

Besides, Trunks thought as he put on his boots, he sort of liked getting this time with Vegeta. Even if they were punching each other instead of talking…this was something that was just between them, and so it was special.

Especially since Vegeta never invited Geta to this kind of thing. Geta was always obnoxious and ruined training, which sucked because he had to train with Geta _a lot_.

Trunks zipped to the Gravity Chamber and found his father standing there in the middle of the room. The gravity was so high that Trunks knew his legs and arms would be shaking with exertion before long.

 _Really should've woken Mom up…bummer._

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Vegeta wasn't going to pull his punches tonight. Even if the boy wasn't on par with him offensively, he was at least durable enough to withstand a good beating.

He studied his son as he trotted over to him, looking far too upbeat for the situation. Bulma loved to whine about how Trunks was infuriatingly like him, but Vegeta had to admit that he saw the Woman in the brat through-and-through. Rarely was it endearing…and this was not one of those times.

"Get in a stance, and none of that sloppy footwork that I've been seeing lately, boy. You're fighting a Saiyan and you come _ready_ to fight a Saiyan."

And Trunks moved exactly how Vegeta wanted him to, so well-trained was he. Laziness often curbed how often he was willing to show what he could do, but the prince would not tolerate that tonight.

His mouth curved up into a smirk. "Let's go."

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TWO YEARS BEFORE

" _Why does my father hate you?" Geta asked the King as they went to dine at some formal function. When Vegeta would refuse to attend these things, dismissing them as 'trivial', Geta's grandfather would demand that Geta attend in his stead. The King said it was to solidify that Geta and only Geta would succeed the Prince as the challenger and upcoming heir to the throne._

 _But Geta knew that didn't really matter. Only the person who killed the King could become King, so a line of succession was mostly a formality. The royal line was just so powerful that there were no other potential challengers._

 _Someday he would be honored to kill the King and become King himself._

" _Vegeta hates me because I did something he could never forgive," his grandfather responded, unemotional. "He hates me because I chose another to sacrifice instead of him and he knows that I spared him. If there is anything a Saiyan hates, it is mercy."_

 _Geta wanted to ask how the King had shown the Prince mercy and what he had needed to sacrifice his own son for anyway, but he knew that that question would be pushing too far and he was not powerful enough yet to fight his grandfather if he made him mad._

" _You must be the same way. Mercy is a shameful thing and you should never give it or be subject to it. It is humiliating to the true warrior."_

" _I understand," Geta said. The mystery of Vegeta's hatred was forgotten in dreams of being a ruthless warrior to make the royal line of Vegeta proud. He would never be like his half-breed brother, Trunks, who definitely was the kind to be merciful. And then a thought occurred to him… "If the Prince hates mercy, then why does he spare that alien woman and not kill her like he should have?"_

 _That didn't follow the logic._

 _At this, the King took on a very ugly expression, which only darkened the longer he answered the query. "My son spent too much time far from home and he was bewitched by the rest of the universe, in certain ways. I hope that his time here will stamp it out of him. Eventually, he will realize his error. And once he comes to that conclusion, he will rid himself of her and will stay here to do his duty."_

 _The King sounded so sure that Geta immediately felt reassured and said no more about it. Prince Vegeta already fought all the time with the blue woman (verbally only, the alien had no physical prowess)…he would get rid of her, Geta knew that he would. His father always said that_ she _was the reason that Trunks was so soft. Geta just had to be patient._

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Geta was sure that the Prince knew he had left the Gravity Chambers before he returned there, Trunks coming close after. He wasn't foolish enough to think that Vegeta didn't know exactly where he was, but that didn't matter. Geta wasn't considered "worthy" of the Prince of All Saiyans. His blood was pounding furiously in his veins once he realized that Trunks was with him because he asked him to be. It was the only explanation this late at night.

Trunks, the half-spawn who wasn't trained as well as Geta… who was only a pale, human version of Vegeta… who was born to a weak woman… _this_ was who the Prince chose to spar with.

Geta wanted to scream, to rip his hair out from the roots. He wanted to go in there and kill them both. Then Vegeta could see his face last thing before he died and acknowledge him.

But he wasn't powerful enough to do it.

He wasn't powerful enough.

For the first time in his life, Geta didn't want to be himself. He didn't want to be the perfect clone created to succeed Prince Vegeta. He was empty, even though he had done everything right! HE was a Saiyan to be proud of! And yet, all he saw in his father's eyes was the mirror of a failure that he couldn't do anything to overcome. Vegeta wouldn't _let_ him overcome it.

He clenched his hands until his nails bit into his palms, scoring them with blood. And because he wasn't powerful enough, he moved out of the shadows and towards the royal wing, where his bed awaited him.

But the rage wouldn't cool.

His feet didn't take him to his bed. Instead, he found _her_ as if it was automatic, as if he had never intended to go to bed at all. She was sleeping away peacefully, long hair pooled over one slender shoulder. Geta was calm, so calm as he listened to those even breaths and looked at every inch of the fragile woman. She _was_ beautiful, he supposed. And she was soft and kind and patient, he had seen her with Trunks—like it was her job to make herself the most important thing in his half-brother's life just because she gave birth to him.

What would that be like? She and Trunks were the only ones on the planet who really knew. And Geta despised that glimmer of longing he felt at the wondering of it.

He felt so calm, so purposeful at his next action, as if he had been called to it.

His hands were in her soft, fascinating hair and he snapped her neck.

She never even woke.

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Trunks was getting thrashed from one end of the Gravity Chambers to the other and was beginning to hope that Vegeta lost interest soon when his father's face changed mid-fight. His movements halted and Trunks followed suit, furrowing his brow.

"What?" his said through a bloody lip.

Vegeta didn't answer, but his face continued its evolution into an expression that Trunks had never seen before. Whatever was in the lines of his face, it made Trunks' heart nervously pound. Something was wrong. Something _had_ to be wrong.

Trunks struck out in his senses, wondering what he had missed.

Then Trunks didn't feel it. His mom.

Wordlessly, and with a note of panic, Vegeta disappeared with Trunks in tow. And as they arrived and Trunks scanned his parents' room frantically, he saw Geta was there, with his mom and she was still sleeping. What was he doing here?

"Mom!"

He saw her, but he didn't sense her! How could it be possible?!

He was frozen, but his father went over and touched her, turned her over… but she didn't wake up.

"Mom?" Trunks looked at Vegeta, thinking in a crisis. Vegeta remained stiffly hovering over his mother, his hand resting briefly on her neck. "There's something wrong with her, she should have woken up. I'll get help!"

He knew that the medics on Vegeta-sei didn't like him much or his mother either, but he would make them come see her. He turned and jetted towards the door, before running right into his father. The older Saiyan was blocking his way, immovable force itself.

"What? I need to get help!" Trunks yelled impatiently, not caring if he made Vegeta mad. "We need to help her!"

But Vegeta just stood there, his expression empty, but pointed. It was like he wanted to tell Trunks something, but didn't want to say it out loud. Trunks didn't understand him.

"Geta!" Trunks cast out desperately for the only other person in the room. "Get help!" Trunks didn't know what Vegeta's problem was, but maybe he would let his brother leave. But at Geta's name, Vegeta came alive again with an inordinate burst of power and animalistic rage unlike anything Trunks had seen on his father's face. It contorted it horribly, and he launched at Trunks' brother. What was he doing?

"Dad!" Trunks blurted out, fear making him slip, not that Vegeta even seemed to hear him over the murderous intent. Why wouldn't he get help?! "Forget _him_ , what about Mom?! She's—"

And then this strange force of cold wisdom dropped Trunks' stomach further than his feet and a darkness descended. Trunks couldn't feel his mother at all. She was here, but where was she? He looked back to where she lay, her neck bent.

Trunks knew. But he didn't want to know.

"Nonononononononononononono…"

His father and Geta were behind him, but he was with his mom, touching her face, but she wasn't moving and shewasdeadshewasdeadshewasdead…

Everything went still and he felt a horrible, searing burn clawing at his throat as he pulled his mother closer, clutching her to his heart. And she was still cold, rigid.

The burning was everywhere.

 _You don't have a mother?_

It was a lifetime ago, but the words came racing back into his mind and Trunks suddenly knew that Geta had done this. And he screamed and screamed and screamed.

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Vegeta was going to kill him. He didn't care what his father thought. All that was in him at the moment was a madness—a dark insanity that told him to destroy.

He wouldn't kill the boy like the boy had done Bulma. He would make it slow—and that was all that Vegeta knew as he descended upon the defiant clone, the boy his father called _grandson_.

Geta was not able to flee and only managed one feeble swing before Vegeta pounded him in a mindless frenzy. But he only was able to beat him half to death when an energy that he didn't recognize hit him like a wave.

Trunks had been screaming—he was still screaming, except the screams echoed and the ground trembled around them. Vegeta looked at his already-bruised son and saw him with his dead mother plastered to his chest as he keened and Vegeta knew the energy came from him.

"Noooooooooo!" Trunks screamed, his mother sinking to the ground like a broken doll as he released her (Vegeta felt an odd pang in his chest) and clenched his fists, tears streaming down his face. The air was suddenly moving so fast that Vegeta couldn't take a breath as it whipped through them. Geta whimpered on the ground as it flattened him further. What was this? And then something changed about the half-human boy…he…he _flickered_.

Vegeta watched, slack-jawed as his son's devastated eyes shined into an immortal blue and his hair stood up on end and a current passed through it, like a field of golden grain on Earth, and blinded the room

The power was beyond anything Vegeta had ever felt—beyond himself, beyond Frieza. He was in awe at this small being that seemed not to be a child anymore, but some god fallen to Vegeta-sei. It nearly hurt his eyes and the air now still and compressed, like the power was drawing everything in to it.

And then, Vegeta knew with an instinct that may have been borne of his heritage—it was the Legendary—the Super Saiyan.

Trunks was the Super Saiyan.

Before Vegeta could feel anything about that unbelievable truth, Trunks set pupil-less eyes on the boy clone and passed sentence on him. His half-brother would not kill the Woman and live.

"You did this," the golden god snarled and again, his voice reverberated in a deep and inhuman rumble. "You _killed my mother_. I will never forgive you for what you've done."

Vegeta anticipated the sweet comeuppance. And so he stood by and watched as Trunks approached his half-brother, who was immobile with terror at the overwhelming presence.

But as Trunks moved, Bulma's beautiful and still form came into view from behind him, alone unaffected by the magnitude of Trunks' ki…never able to feel anything again. And Vegeta felt that pang again…except it resonated this time, until it was painful. It wasn't a physical pain, but it was there nonetheless.

" _I would think that you'd be pleased," Vegeta scowled, watching Bulma examine his armor with professional fascination and patiently answering her questions about the newest design work. "Your son is the blood of royalty, being trained by royalty, with an unusual ability just waiting to be honed. And yet, here you are, dismissing his latest boost of power."_

" _I didn't dismiss it!" Bulma scoffed, tapping a finger on his chest. "But I already knew our son was amazing. I've just been waiting for you to catch up."_

" _Hn. Don't exaggerate."_

" _I'm not," Bulma said seriously, peering at him with unblinking blue eyes and coming nearer to his face, as if imparting the most important of secrets. "I'll always be proud of Trunks, because he isn't powerful because he can kill, Vegeta. My boy is a protector of the innocent. It's in his nature. And on_ my _planet, that makes him amazing."_

It's in his nature…

Vegeta's eyes were fixed on Bulma and he became sick with the memory of her, telling him that Trunks wasn't a killer. And how he had laughed at her, because Saiyans _were_ killers. They didn't defend anything that couldn't defend themselves. And Trunks wouldn't stay her pure boy, so she'd better get realistic. She'd better not fight it.

And Vegeta recalled eyes that didn't believe him, that defied him openly…eyes that wouldn't ever open again…

"Trunks!" Vegeta bellowed. "Don't."

Trunks did stop, and it was a credit to him because Vegeta knew that he would have never stayed his hand at his father's prompting. Trunks' depthless gaze was turned to him now, waiting…waiting for some reason why he shouldn't. And he looked even more like a stranger.

"Your mother wouldn't have wanted it," Vegeta said hoarsely, betraying what composure he had with the slightest quiver. "Even Saiyans have honor. I honor your mother. Do not take your revenge, not now."

"I want to!" Trunks cried furiously and the room trembled. But Vegeta wasn't going to be cowed by his own son, even in the face of this obscene amount of power.

"And what would the Woman want?" Vegeta asked, trying to sound angry in order to deflect Trunks from Geta, to make him see reason. "You knew her as I did. Leave your mother's killer _to me_." Vegeta would take on the price. His hands were soaked in blood already.

Trunks hesitated, knowing the truth behind the words, and he couldn't do it. Damnit, his mother was right. The boy couldn't even enjoy killing in these circumstances. And the boy howled in fury, releasing, and the light faded around him until he was just Trunks again, the magnificence of his form swept away into nothingness. The quiet seemed deadly and the boy stared at his mother again, hatred rising in his eyes.

"You never knew her as I did," Trunks said. "And I _will_ get my mother back." And then he gathered up his Bulma's body in a careful flash and disappeared without another word, like Vegeta had done so many times before to the both of them.

Vegeta then realized that no less than six palace guards and Nappa were crowding at the door, with varied expressions of awe and fright, and had parted quickly to let Trunks pass. All he saw was Nappa, the Saiyan Elite charged with Bulma's protection. "You," Vegeta hissed. "You have _failed_."

Nappa fell prostrate, begging at his sire's grave pronouncement. And it was only because even Nappa seemed genuinely saddened by Bulma's fate that Vegeta didn't blast him on the spot.

"Don't speak," Vegeta commanded. He wanted the fool out of his presence until he knew what to do with him. "Take the _clone_ to a regeneration tank. And remain there with him until I give you leave. Do NOT remove him from the tank. And allow no one else to remove him either."

"Yes, Your Highness," Nappa said gratefully. And he swiftly took the half-conscious Geta from the room, not bothering to be gentle as he was to hurry.

"Go back to your posts!" Vegeta snapped to the guards, who were motionless still. "And say nothing of this to _anyone_. If I hear even a _whisper_ of these events, it will be counted as treason and the offender will have death. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Your Highness," they all said before moving back to their positions, likely the nearest guards in the palace. Vegeta knew the tale would spread. But he couldn't deal with that tonight.

And then there was numbness, a kind that he didn't want to feel. He would do anything to make it stop, to make it so he didn't have to _think_ about Bulma gone. But he couldn't remove it, he couldn't reverse it.

He went to the Gravity Chambers, the ones that _she_ had constructed, their sprawling rooms and bots and the gravity now capable of 750 times Vegeta-sei. _And she would never enhance it again._

Terrain adaption. He changed it to the terrain she had found him in that same night…the boiling black sand and hazy sky. He sat and he attempted to meditate, but thought of her, coaxing him to bed. He sensed Trunks in the labs, in _her_ office. And he remembered his only fond memories of the place, when he took her on her desk, when she kissed him and laughed at him, but also delighted in him…

She stayed with him and gave herself to him even when his people hated her, when he said she was useless, when he took her and Trunks from all they knew and brought them here.

And he felt he owed her something, in his numb, awful state—he needed some kind of vengeance for her. He needed something to make this _stop._

Vegeta stood up and left. He would go to Trunks later, not yet. In the chaos of his newborn emotions, a plan was formulating slowly. Where Trunks fit in to this, he didn't know yet. But he knew the first step.

"Vegeta…I was hoping you'd come to explain the enormous clatter I heard earlier. It woke me and I could not return to sleep. I almost came to investigate, but I was confident you had things well in hand."

The King was at his couch, polishing a sword as if it was any other night. His sly voice spoke enough of the things he didn't say.

"You know she's dead," Vegeta said dully. "And your pathetic clone did it. While I was gone and while she was sleeping. You know already."

The King didn't deny it. "You know I had no use for the alien girl you bedded. Don't expect me to mourn with you. What did you do with your heir who slay her?"

"He's not my heir!" Vegeta spat. "And I _will_ deal with him. He will never rule anything if I have any say in it."

The King sighed. "And I expect you intend to have _every_ say in it… that's why you're here, isn't it? I'm impressed it took you this long. Had I known, I'd have arranged for the little bitch to meet her end long before—"

Vegeta was on him, choking him against the wall and the King sputtered a laugh as he gasped for air.

"You won't have long to enjoy her death," Vegeta said. "You will go to a far worse place, I'd imagine."

"Tell me," the King panted, and Vegeta loosened his grip. He would say what he wished and then it would be over. "Tell me how you did it. I _felt_ that ki and only a legend could speak of such power. All that I dismissed as a fantasy. Hate me as you will, but you have achieved everything I set out for you. Everything I _saved_ you for when I sent Tarble to Frieza. My trick paid off. You _will_ destroy Frieza and save the Saiyans, because he never got his hands on you. _I chose_. Remember that, Vegeta, when you sit on my throne. Remember."

Vegeta plunged a hand into his father's chest, "You will look up from hell and see that I learned from you. A son for a son, Father," Vegeta told him. And with that, he pulled forth the King's heart, blood spraying them both before his father collapsed to the ground, gone before he hit the floor.

"The King is dead," Vegeta said to no one. "Long live the King."

A/N: I fully expect you to hate me right now, but seriously, don't panic. I must remind you of two things: 1. Remember the name of the series! I've also left some clues earlier on in the story as to what will happen. 2. This IS a Vegebul and Trunks story. That hasn't changed. The next chapter will be mostly Trunks POV…and he's really gone through the ringer, hasn't he? But he's not a child anymore, he's actually the most powerful being on Vegeta-sei and the boy HAS A PLAN.

Tell me what you thought because a lot happened in this chapter. I know this was probably a difficult one to read, but there's no prize without a journey. Thanks so much for reading!


	13. You Will Pay

A/N: I know you guys have had a really long wait, and all I can say is that I've been way too busy to even write (as much as I wanted to lol). I'm hoping it slows down enough that that changes. I can assure you though, I am NOT abandoning this story! So now that that's out of the way… thank you so much to **a guy 1013, elianni, julyza** (yeah, the King would have been definitely thrown, but I didn't want to muddy the waters in that scene, if you know what I mean… and you _got it_ on the whole corpse thing…gross! Lol), **maxridelover** (I'm glad it was surprising! I didn't want to show my hand too much haha), **lmamc** (again, glad it shocked! I HATED to do it, trust me, but big pain is big payoff…), **rocee** (thank you!) **, Rosy** (it broke my heart too, believe me!), **RedSmileyFace** (Vegeta was being stubborn, and you'll see him slowly see the light…but also run into some issues with being blinded by hatred, something that Trunks will also have to confront, this will shake them both deeply but they express that differently, of course. And I WILL. I love her.), **Kitty in the Box** (don't panic, this is all under control lol), **Flaming Beauty** (Vegeta is gonna need a little more of a push haha… he's remedial when it comes to feelings), **Guest, cemploon, Kgvision** (I'm glad you understand Geta…that is going to be a major thread and things for him are going to go a bit south for him at this point…), **Guest, kyowari** (sorry it took so long, but hope you enjoy!), **Jane** (thank you!), and **BV4ever** (good timing on your review! Haha I hope I answered some of your questions in this chapter and will answer more soon… and thank you and same to you!). And now, please enjoy the chapter!

Trunks clicked through his mother's computer files feverishly, only looking for what he needed. _Dragonballs. Dragonballs. Dragonballs._ Everywhere it appeared as a keyword, skimming all the details and committing it to memory and making saved copies onto a removable disk of whatever he was afraid he wouldn't remember.

Those strange, magical balls that were a central part of his Mom's teenage years and her adventures were the only way to save her now. They could bring back the dead. And Trunks couldn't think of another thing in the universe that could change it.

But Dragonballs weren't on this planet. Mom would have known if they were—she knew more about them than anybody else alive. And by her calculations, they were nowhere very close either.

He wished he had been more interested in flying when he had the chance, but he was confident he knew enough to get him where he needed to go. He had to.

He had to…

For only a moment, Trunks had the impulse to look behind him, where his mother was sprawled peacefully on a table, but he crushed it stoically and continued to work.

"Namek…" he muttered, feeling the word in his mouth. Namek had Dragonballs and so did Earth…but they weren't in the same direction. And Namek was closer than Earth, by a lot…

If he had a real choice, he would go back to Earth. But he didn't know if there was some time limit on bringing people back to life and he wasn't going to waste any time just in case. He briefly wished he had paid more attention before, but he didn't allow himself to wish for long—it wouldn't do any good. Only _doing_ something about it would. This wasn't about taking some trip—this was about saving Mom.

He hadn't saved her, though. Not when he should have and not the way he had promised…instead, he was training with Vegeta so that _Vegeta_ could get stronger.

And that was how it had always been—his father did everything for himself and his goals. Mom did everything she did to protect him and help his father. And look where that had gotten her…

Feeling like the lump in his throat would choke him, he started running the calculations for fuel and necessities. And as he did, he made new promises to himself. Promises that he would keep this time.

If it was the last thing he did.

He had nearly done everything that he could do in Bulma's lab when he felt his father's presence at the door, silent but suffocating. Trunks stiffened, unable to quell the still-fresh anger, but too tired of screaming to even face Vegeta.

Trunks knew that the Crown Prince was not one to allow indifference to his presence. And Trunks knew well that there was some reason for him being here, but there was no interest or obedience in him to give it.

"You mean to leave, then," Vegeta said. His inflection that gave Trunks nothing to discern what his father was going to do or say, but again, he remembered that it didn't matter anyway. His father was right, he was leaving as far as he needed to go and then when his Mom was alive and warm and whole again—he would never bring her back here.

Only the dimmest curiosity lit within him and he spoke before it flared away. "What did you do with…?"

He had meant to say 'Geta', but the hatred welled up in him so hard and harsh that it stole his calm and he exhaled harshly. He sensed that his half-brother was still alive, though that sense was barely registering. And if he thought about it too much, he would do what his parents had stopped him from doing in the first place.

 _There's no time to kill._

Vegeta knew what he had meant to say. "The clone is in a regeneration tank until I decide what is to be done with him. I may kill him still, if I can't think of something worse."

Trunks was pitiless at his half-brother's impending fate, but did briefly wonder if he had been in Geta's place right now, if Vegeta would have talked about him the same way, so casually and ruthlessly. Would Vegeta be ready to kill him, if he had done something bad enough? It was a detached, clinical kind of wondering. There was only anger and emptiness, and nothing good to fill it. Not even revenge.

"I'm sure the King won't let you kill him," Trunks finally settled on saying. "The King hated Mom and he—"

"I had the same thought," Vegeta said. "Your grandfather is dead."

"You killed him."

"I am the King now."

Trunks didn't care. He finally looked up at his father, deciding to get to the point. "I need a ship."

"Why? What do you intend to do?"

Trunks did everything in his power to control his temper at the question and clenched his fists. He felt he didn't _owe_ Vegeta any kind of explanation, but all that mattered was getting out of here as fast as possible. If that meant explaining it, then he would do that.

"I'm going to bring her back… There's a way. I know about it because Mom discovered—" the lump in his throat came back full force and he pushed it back down acidly, burning it away. "She discovered something that can even bring dead people back. Like a wish. It's on another planet, and all I need is a ship." He looked at his father coldly, remembering the power that had coursed through him, and quite suddenly he was fully ready to threaten the new King with that power. "It's easier if you just give it to me." _But if you don't, I'll take it._

There was a threat in there that Vegeta could definitely read, but he seemed to ignore it in favor of his burgeoning skepticism. "If there is one thing I know in this world, boy, it is death." He glanced behind Trunks to where his son's mother lay, his eyes black. "I've never heard of anything that could undo it."

"She told _me_!" Trunks yelled. "She's been telling me about them for years and I should've listened more, and I don't know if it's going to work, but I _do_ know that I'm not gonna stop until she's alive again. And nothing you say is going to stop me either." The energy around them was thrumming again with shades of new power and Vegeta's eyes glinted even as they remained black as pitch. Trunks knew what he was thinking—what he was wondering.

What had happened to him when he saw his mother's body? He could barely bring himself to care about it as it happened, and now he had only the mildest interest. The unimaginable force that had filled him to bursting and poured out like an enormous wave… and with it, he just _knew_ that there was no one on the planet who was powerful enough to take him down. Not even his father.

There was an instinct that told him what it was, too… it was the power Vegeta had been seeking for years, the power his mother had promised—the Legendary Warrior. Trunks, the boy the whole planet had mocked because he was a half-breed, had become what nobody with complete Saiyan blood could.

But it had cost him his mom…and it wasn't worth it. And if she didn't come back, he wouldn't use that power to save anyone. No way.

"I'm not going to stop you," his father told him. "If I were not King now, I would go with you. If the Woman believed it would work, then she was likely right…" Vegeta's haunted eyes burned into Trunks' like a perverse mirror. "She was right about most things…"

It was only the merest breath of time, but Trunks saw it—Vegeta's pain. It broke in his face like shattered glass, sharp and heart-stopping. And then it was gone…

But Trunks felt his resistant heart soften slightly, hesitating. His dad had cared about his mom, just not enough to do anything about it. So, just like everything else really, it didn't make a difference. What Vegeta felt couldn't compare to what he…

 _Don't think about it._

Trunks froze his insides like stone. "I have to go now. I don't know how much time I have or how it all works."

"You barely know how to fly even a small ship, boy…" Vegeta said wearily. "You'll take Nappa with you. He has enough experience—"

"No!" Trunks shouted, exploding. "I'm not taking any of you with me! You're what got Mom killed, you and this whole planet! I'm taking her and once I bring her back to life, we're not coming back!"

The angry outburst seemed to take Vegeta aback for a second, and then the rage came to the surface. "Is that how you think it will be, boy? One little thing and then—"

"'One little thing'?!" Trunks bellowed incredulously. "Mom is DEAD! Don't you get it?! And you all…you all did this to her! She NEVER wanted to come here! You think I don't know that? You think that I thought we were going on vacation?! Even when I was _four_ , I wasn't as stupid as you think! I knew that you forced Mom to bring us here, but I couldn't do anything about it back then." He snarled darkly. "I could now…"

He felt the power in him; he knew that he could bring it back out.

But Vegeta was not to be trifled with as he snarled with equal darkness and grim experience. "Don't threaten me, Trunks."

"On my honor, if we fought, once of us _would_ die. And there's no time for it." He was surprisingly calm as he spoke, making Trunks pause with wariness. He almost sounded…wise. His gaze was penetrating, and Trunks was held by it. "You kill me, you never stop fighting to get off Vegeta-sei. You would in effect, be King. A hated King who lost everything. And you would be just like all those that came before you."

No. His Mom had always sworn that he was different. Trunks blocked out the memories that assailed him… trying to think.

"And you can't _bring your mother on the ship with you_ ," Vegeta scowled. "Her body would rot. I can preserve her here with what we have. If it's like a 'wish', why would the distance matter?"

Trunks had no clue whether or not he needed Bulma's body with him to do it, but he was pretty sure he didn't. After all, the real piece of her was already somewhere far away. But if he left her here…he would have to come back. Just like if he brought Nappa.

Even in his angry, distraught brain, his father's words made sense. And that made him angrier.

"You just want me to come back so that you can use me," Trunks tore back. "You need someone to fight that ice-jerk Frieza and you know I probably could now. Well, I don't care if Frieza blows this whole planet up!"

Vegeta had gone white with fury and lurched closer to Trunks, just short of touching him, but Trunks coldly stood his ground. He was glad…he was glad to see that he could wound his father, both with his potential power and with Frieza—the two things now that would gall Vegeta the most.

" _I_ ," Vegeta said softly, "will be the one to kill Frieza, boy. Only me. It is _not_ your battle."

Trunks, feeling uncontrolled, almost told his father that he wasn't capable of it. But he reigned himself in, remembering that it would only distract them both with a bloody fight. "If I come back," Trunks finally said, "it won't be like it was before. Things have changed."

He imagined his mother, small and fierce, glaring up at his father with no power and no choice. But his mother had made her power from nothing, and there was secret sadness in his father's eyes. That was her power.

"Yes," Vegeta said, revealing nothing but his words and the downward curl of his lips. "Things have changed forever."

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Vegeta found Nappa where he had commanded Nappa to go. The man jumped to attention, almost trembling. "My prince!"

"Your king," Vegeta said curtly.

"O-of course, my king. I apologize."

Vegeta sneered in disgust at the obeisance. "You have a new job, Nappa. And I swear by everything that exists, if you fail in this, you _will_ die. There are no second chances anymore."

"What must I do?" Nappa asked, ready to do anything, even if it meant life and limb.

"You failed in your responsibility to me regarding the Woman… but there is still our son. He's preparing to leave…to find a way to bring his mother back." He held up a hand, not wanting to be waylaid with scientific garble he hadn't even confronted himself. There would be time for that soon enough. "Don't _ask_ me anything. Even if his mission does not come to success, I need him gone for the moment. Frieza is coming to Vegeta-sei and will be here any time. I never wanted him to know about the boy or the woman, and now…" he gritted his teeth. "The boy has Legendary power. If that is discovered, Frieza will eliminate him or worse."

"But, my king, can't he—"

Vegeta leveled him with a furious glare that had him shutting his mouth. "Whatever power he has, Frieza is not _his_ to kill. The brat has never fought to the death, he's never killed and even I've never seen Frieza's final forms. I don't know if he'd be a match for him even as he is… No, I must be the one. I must attain what my son has, and more."

Vegeta didn't want to think about the possibility that Trunks' half-blood status had anything to do with this. Bulma never thought it was a matter of blood in the strictest sense, and now he needed time to _think_. Ever since that pathetic clone had killed the Woman, there was a degree of horribly cold calculation in his mind that hadn't been there before… a set of moves, laid out systematically in his mind of what he had to do. The first thing had been to remove his father and take the Kingship. The second had been to send Trunks off with every guarantee that the boy would return here. Vegeta needed him.

Trunks seemed to have become a stranger to him in just one moment, just one horrible event. Vegeta had sensed coldness and hatred that had never emanated off of the boy before. If Bulma could see him now…

 _Don't think about that_.

Vegeta looked behind Nappa to the regeneration tank where the clone, nearly unrecognizably injured, floated in deep sleep. That was the true calculation—what to do with the clone. After what he had done, everything that had tethered him to the mercy in Vegeta was gone. He was nothing more than a tool now.

And a very useful tool he would be.

"I need more time. I need you and the boy gone _tonight_. There can be no talk or speculation about what happened earlier regarding Trunks, and the sooner you leave, the faster I can control the fallout."

Nappa looked between Vegeta and the tank that Vegeta couldn't take his eyes off of… "I will do whatever you command, my king. But how do you intend to deal with _this_ boy?"

"That is none of your concern, Nappa," Vegeta said. "You've failed me so many times, how should it be that I share my plans with you anymore? You will have to earn my trust back."

Truthfully, he knew that Nappa wouldn't stop him from doing what he was going to do with Geta… but he knew that Nappa wouldn't agree. And he didn't want to see it in the other Saiyan's eyes.

"You're right, King Vegeta. I will earn your trust back, I swear it," Nappa said, and he bowed his absurdly shiny, bald head. "I beg your forgiveness for failing to protect her, I'm truly—"

Vegeta grabbed him by the throat with lightning quickness and squeezed, hard and unfeeling. "Don't speak of her," he hissed. "Not now, not _ever_."

He ignored the choking of his lieutenant and released his thick neck in one motion. "Go to the landing bay. The boy is getting ready and will be there shortly. Do not tell anyone about this."

"Yes, Your Highness," Nappa exclaimed breathlessly before disappearing from the chamber.

Vegeta wanted to go find Trunks once again, but he needed a moment. In the morning, the entire Saiyan race (other than the guards that had been present tonight) would know that the old king was dead. And now Vegeta would bear the responsibility for every one of them. Frieza would be arriving soon and he would need to play this masterfully in order to win the battle. He would need to plan and maneuver as best as he could until the _final_ battle came.

Vegeta knew that the war couldn't be won until Trunks returned, successful or unsuccessful he may be.

In the meantime…he would preserve her.

He should have picked her up and placed her somewhere safe when he had been with Trunks, but Trunks was volatile and vicious over this latest betrayal and Vegeta felt a odd pang of respect for that. He may not have understood it, but the boy loved his mother.

Was love real? Bulma had sworn it was, before Trunks erupted in golden flame. She spoke of it so knowingly—like her death was already in design…like she could have known.

He couldn't bring himself to touch the Woman. She didn't look dead, really. But he knew, he knew and the thought that someone had taken her life from _him_ …well, it filled him with a sadistic rage unlike anything he had ever experience and left him with nothing but plans to destroy his enemies, and _hers._

He looked at the wavering, ruined face, knowing no ownership of it. He would claim this spawn for only one thing.

"You will pay," Vegeta whispered to the sleeping boy. "You will pay dearly…"

A/N: Setting up the next steps here, which is why I had to cut this one a little shorter… we are headed to a dark place before the light comes back. Hopefully that is reflected well in Trunks' and Vegeta's psyches in this chapter a little bit. Just keep trusting me…and let me know what you think! Reviews are the best and they keep me going!


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